


How we met

by PurrV



Series: Knightformers - Rodimus and Drift [1]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurrV/pseuds/PurrV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A IDW/AU Knightformers tale about about Drift and Rodimus, and how they grew up together in the Kingdom Of Iaconia, and how they eventually fall in love.<br/>What will be at first a sweet story of youthful innocence, and young love, will soon transform into a twisted tale of sadistic minds, tortured souls and loss of hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
** **Rating for this chapter - K+  
 **Warnings so far - none****

\--------

_Key  
 _Stellar cycle - one year  
 _Sol - day  
 _Orbital cycle - month  
 _Vorn - 83 years  
 _Click - one minute  
 _Nano-Click - one second  
 _Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years________

\--------

Drift groaned as he gripped the railing of the ship's deck, wishing that the voyage would end already. The ship swayed to an uncomfortable extent, and staring at the crystal sea didn't help; it danced dangerously around the vessel and smashed against it violently. He wanted to get to their destination right now. He didn't care if he had to pay extra; he just wanted to reach land. If not, then he wished that Prima would appear out of nowhere and stab him with his holy blade. He didn't care how it happened; at this point, he'd rather die than live through this ordeal any longer. The vessel's sailors could only give him confused looks. Various femmes attempted to console him unsuccessfully, and the sparklings amongst the passengers giggled at his sorry state until he scared them away with a menacing growl. The young, white-armored mech had long since decided that he hated sailing vessels. The sensations he felt while riding on one made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of the Pit.

"Drift, what I have I taught you?" 

The white mech looked over to his sensei, who was relaxing on a couple of crates.

"If I give into the pain, I allow it to conquer me," he answered, agitated.

"Which you happen to be doing," laughed the black armoured mech. 

Drift moaned as he released the rail and stumbled over to his sensei, otherwise known as Master Axe. "I have already mastered holding burning embers in my hands, and welcoming the embrace of a blade against my protoform. Given the circumstances, it is difficult for me to master the control of my insides at the moment."

The black mech laughed again and slapped the young samurai-in-training a little too hard on his back. "Now, now, Drift, it does take time and patience. However, if you wish to become a full fledged member of the Circle, then you have to learn how to conquer these distractions faster."

Drift nodded as he slowly sat down next to the mech who had practically raised him.  
"How about we talk to help you forget the pain?" his sensei asked.

Anything. Drift nodded furiously and gulped back some bile. His sensei chuckled and looked towards the misty horizon. "You remember where we're going?"

"We're going to Iaconia, the capital of the Cybertronia Empire, to meet with the royal family, otherwise known as the Primes."

"Good. Who are the Primes?"

Drift sighed. "The Primes are the descendants of the children of the Old Knights of Cybertronia, who entrusted them with the task to care for their people and to guard the holy relic, the Creation Matrix. The current reigning Prime of Iaconia is Nominus Prime. He has three sons, each conceived by different noble consorts. The next one in line for the throne is Sentinel Prime, followed by Optimus Prime, and then Rodimus Prime."

"Very good, you actually remembered their names. Now then, who are the Old Knights of Cybertronia?"

Drift rolled his optics. "They are the sons of Primus, the followers of the Blade of Prima, the slayers of Unicron and the Fallen, and the founders of the Circle. They tamed the land, mastered the seas and created Cybertronia for the people. After their tasks were complete, they left Cybertronia in the hands of the Primes and set out to find the perfect place to create their utopia where only those who earned the right can tread."

Master Axe patted Drift on the helm, pleased that his student was remembering his studies. "Excellent, Drift. Now then, tell me about Iaconia."

"Iaconia is said to be the last place the Old Knights stood before they left for their Utopia. It is the largest city in Cybertronia, as well as its capital. It is also where the Grand Cathedral of Primus stands, and, as the capital, it is where the Senate of Cybertronia assembles, and where the Primes rule over all."

"And why are we going there?"

"Because the Circle sent you to act as their ambassador, for they wish to discuss with the Primes about issues regarding the new laws they wish our homeland to instigate."

His sensei nodded. "Yes, but why am I taking you?"

Drift sat up, surprised. "I assumed you wanted me to come along to act as your bodyguard?"

His sensei nearly fell off his crate laughing. Drift frowned, knowing he himself walked into that one. Though, he had been wondering why he was brought here alongside Master Axe. He wasn't skilled in diplomatic missions, and he had no knowledge of Iaconia. So why was he going to this grand city?

"Drift my dear student, I can fend for myself in my sleep. The reason I'm taking you is because you were given the chance of a lifetime."

The white mech tilted his head. "Chance of a lifetime? Y-you mean I get to train their heavy knights? To show off our fighting style? To make a fool out of each and every one of them?"

Master Axe had to stop himself from laughing as he shook his head. "No, my student. You have been given the privilege to act as a companion for Nominus Prime's youngest son."

Drift felt his spark sink. He fell to the floor in complete disbelief.  
"You brought me here to...to be some spoilt Prime's playmate?"

"No Drift, a companion. He's about the same age as you, but his older brother has asked if I had someone trustworthy to act as a friend for him."

This had to be some sort of joke. Master Axe had to be telling some sort of cruel joke. There was no way he would just take him out of the dojo in the middle of his training and sail with him through Rust and Crystal Seas just to become someone's playmate. Why didn't he take someone else? Why didn't he take Wing? He was always on about seeing the world. Why not him?

"Is this because I'm not a full blooded native? Because I'm just a half blooded disgrace?" spat Drift.

"We've discussed this, Drift! Just because your carrier left our land, mated with a Kaonolese, and left you in the streets until you found us, does not mean we think any less of you. This is not something we would just let anyone do. Right now, everyone in your dojo is envious of you, and Grand Master Dai Atlas and Grand Master Yoketron are very proud of you. You are representing our people, and will hopefully help bridge our two lands closer together!"

These words did not change the way Drift was feeling. He had wanted to stay in his dojo and continue with his training. He didn't want to stop just because some lonely young noble was in need of a playmate. Sparring with blades and learning new fighting techniques was what he lived for, and he did not like the prospect of running around a garden looking after some brat. Yes, in some sense it was an honor to be in the presence of a Prime, but given the circumstances, he felt unworthy.

"No wonder you didn't tell me anything as we boarded the vessel," he growled.

"It's only for two stellar cycles."

"TWO STELLAR CYCLES?"

"I thought you would be pleased."

Angered at the revelation, Drift stood. He stumbled back to the edge of the deck, and resumed his vigil at the rail. "This can't be real," he moaned.

"Look on the bright side," chuckled Master Axe, "At least you're not ill anymore."

Drift was too stupefied to respond.

\--

As the voyage progressed, Master Axe explained in much more detail what Drift would be doing.

Master Axe was only going to be in Iaconia for a few sols before he would return to Crystal City and the Circle, leaving Drift behind. During his talks with the Primes while arranging the voyage, Master Axe was surprised when he was asked if the Circle had any young mechs who would be interested in keeping Nominus Prime's youngest son company until he came of age. Apparently Rodimus Prime, the third in line for the throne, was going through some tough times, and his older brother was far too busy with his own affairs to keep an optic on him. Optimus thought that meeting and interacting with someone else from an entirely different culture would keep his little brother distracted and happy. Whoever he brought would be given a lavish suite, a private room where he could study and, if he wished, the opportunity to train with the Iaconia knights in their training rooms. He would be treated as a privileged guest, and his lifestyle would never be questioned.

The young mech wasn't at all pleased with this task. Stuck in a foreign kingdom for two stellar cycles with some royal brat? He would be a full grown mech by the time he left, and that would mean he would miss out on the coming of age festival held for new members of the Circle. This didn't just suck; it simply wasn't fair. Why wasn't he informed ahead of time? Why wasn't he given the chance to voice his opinion?

His answer didn't make Drift feel any better. Master Axe told him that anyone, even Grand Master Dai Atlas, would jump at the chance to serve a Prime no matter what age. This was also a wonderful learning experience for him, as ever since he had brought from Kaonol to Crystal City, Drift hadn't seen much of the world. This was the opportunity to learn a whole new culture. If Drift did as he was told and kept Rodimus Prime happy, then he would achieve a trust between Iaconia and Crystal City, something that everyone in the Circle wanted. If Drift did this, he would be respected for all time and be remembered for ages.

"Yeah... I'll be remembered as the one who spent two stellar cycles of his life playing with a baby Prime!"

"Actually he's about your age, nearly six vorns. He will be in two stellar cycles."

So he was four hundred ninety six stellar cycles old? Made sense why he was only spending two stellar cycles there. When you reached six vorns, you were considered a mature mech, a young adult. Some youngsters only cared about reaching that age so they could have the strong drinks only meant for adult mechs. Some looked forward to it for it was the legal age you could wed and engage in interfacing with a partner. Drift himself would reach six vorns in about 8 orbital cycles. Was that why he was only spending two stellar cycles in Iaconia? Until Rodimus Prime became a full grown mech, he needed someone to keep an optic on him?

"Attention! Attention!" came a loud, booming voice. "We will be arriving at the Iaconia docks in seven clicks! Prepare to disembark!"

Drift looked up but all he could see was the trail of metal cliffs they had been following. Master Axe patted him on the back. "We'll be seeing it just as we come around this cliff," he said.

Drift watched with anticipation as they reached the end of the cliffs. There was an old painting of Iaconia within the Prima Temple back at Crystal City. The painting was magnificent, but he had always been told that you had to actually see it in the protoform to fully understand its beauty. Some actually described it as crysalis rose, beautiful but with thorns. The white mech had wondered what they meant by that, but he figured he would understand it when he saw it. Above the sound of the crashing sea and the yells of the sailors, he could hear a roaring sound. Once they passed the end of the cliffs, Drift was amazed by what he saw.

Here, the cliffs curved inward, forming a large cove. Situated on the land above the cliffs was Iaconia, the great capital of Cybertronia. It was less a city and more a mega-metropolis, as it occupied a large valley that extended inland for some distance. Only a small part of it was visible from the sea, but it was already a magnificent sight. The buildings near the edge of the cliff were not as large as some of the more famous ones farther inland, but contained some of the city's finest architecture, as they were among the most visible to travelers. Below the majestic buildings of the city, several large crystal waterfalls cascaded and then dropped down the cliffs, producing a loud yet ambient roar. 

In front of the falls, built upon large piers lining the cove, was Iaconia's port district. The docks were occupied with hundreds, if not thousands of vessels of all sizes, and the piers themselves were packed with warehouses, their drab appearance providing a stark contrast to the regal city above. At the far end of the cove, situated on a platform jutting from the top of the cliff, there was what appeared to be an airship station. A few aircraft could be seen moving near it.

Drift wasn't sure he could describe it if he was asked to; it was that grand.

Sailing into the cove, they were greeted by two giant statues of what must have been some of the Old Cybertronia Knights. Were they welcoming them to the city? They looked rather intimidating. As they approached, Master Axe suddenly saluted them in the Circle manner. Drift quickly mirrored him, almost forgetting that if he was to ever come across visual representations of the Old Knights of Cybertronia outside of his homeland, he had to salute them. It was a tradition in their land, but because Drift had never traveled abroad, he had forgotten about it. The other mechs on board gave them queer looks before carrying on with their business.

As they got closer, the cliffs began to dominate the field of view, and Drift could see the city in more detail. He could still see the airship station, and soon spotted what appeared to be elevators, their shafts disappearing into the waterfalls. Farther above, viewing platforms jutted out from the edge of the cliffs, and mechs were crowded onto each, looking out at the sea or at the organized chaos of the port district down below. The elevators looked quite interesting, and Drift actually looked forward to riding on them. 

By now, their vessel was maneuvering into an empty spot alongside one of the piers. Master Axe began to gather their things as the vessel docked, mooring lines secured to tie-downs on the pier. The port ramps were lowered, and the passengers poured off the ship. Master Axe and Drift waited for most of them to leave before they themselves disembarked.

Immersed in the exotic sensory of the foreign port, Drift could not help but look around in awe. "It smells...funny," he said, wiping his olfactory sensor.

"The first thing you say upon entering a new city is a comment about the smell?"

Drift flushed and lowered his head. "Well...there are a lot of weird things in this city. The smell was the least unusual."

Master Axe chuckled as he led the young mech along the piers.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - T  
Warnings so far - slight minor groping, slight violence

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

"We were supposed to meet them here," Master Axe muttered, looking around the crowds that bustled past them.

Poor Drift had to keep watching where he walked as he was pushed, shoved, and even tripped unapologetically by the inhabitants of the city. It was never like this in Crystal City. It was never this crowded. He wanted to leap onto a nearby building to escape the chaos. They stood near one of the elevators, his sensei continuing to look out for whoever they were supposed to meet. Drift clutched a satchel of his belongings, thankful for a chance to get his bearings.

They waited for some time, long enough that Drift grew bored. Despite the bad news he had been given earlier, he was in a whole new world, and his youthful nature was telling him to go out there and explore. It clashed with his strict nature, which ordered him to stay put and wait for...who were they waiting for, anyway? His sensei hadn't told him, and even he was starting to look bored as he watched the crowds moving past them.

An unexpected sensation caught him off guard. He stiffened, almost dropped his satchel. Was someone touching his--

Looking over his shoulder, his field of vision was occupied by a large, heavy, and clearly intoxicated mech, face brimming with lust, his hands fondling his aft! Drift looked at him, shocked.

The drunk mech looked back, and flashed an ugly grin, squeezing his aft.  
"Hey there you--HIC--pretty thing," he slurred, "I'll--HIC--give you five credits for your--HIC--aft, hehehehe!"

Within a fraction of a nano-click, a large intoxicated mech flew through the air, gracelessly crashing through a window of an adjacent building. Bystanders gasped. Some fled, but others stuck around, anticipating a fight. Drift straightened himself out, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and rage. Master Axe looked on, his face a mixture of shock and amusement.

"Took your time to notice him, I see."

"You noticed him and said NOTHING?" Drift wailed.

"You did once quote that you were old enough to fight your own battles," the sensei continued nonchalantly. "It was your own fault for not sensing him before he grabbed your behind."

Drift growled in rage. "He was-was...GROPING ME!" He shrieked, the fact that they were in a crowded place be damned.

A loud crash caught their attention. The door of the adjacent building flew open, and the drunk mech staggered out. "I'm gonna rip yer head off, yer damn cyberfish eating brat!" he howled.

 

Drift braced himself to attack, but before he could even take a step forward, a large white fist suddenly collided with the drunkard's face, and he once again went flying, this time into a pile of crates.

Looking up to see who threw the punch, Drift was shocked to see an even taller mech (even taller than Grand Master Dai Atlas) arrive on the scene. This newcomer surprised Drift, even intimidated him a little with his appearance and cold aura. His heavy blue and red armour had not a single blemish; it looked brand new and crafted from talented hands, and it was polished to the point it blinded him. His white cape, also practically glowing with cleanliness, flowed out behind him, and the sword he had sheathed looked intimidating, even if it was safely tucked away. His expression was incredibly cold and, if Drift had to guess, he looked like he had never smiled. Nearby mechs and femmes fled from his presence as he strode over to the groaning drunk.

"Getting overcharged in the middle of the sol, damaging private property, and mech-handling a minor. That will earn you five orbital cycles in the mines."

The drunk groaned as his charges were read. The tall, intimidating mech suddenly glared at Drift.

"And you should be fined for damaging private property. If you weren't a minor, you would be getting a sol in the prisons."

Drift growled. "What!? He was the one who started it! I was merely defending myself!"

"By throwing him into a building?" the blue and red mech responded, unimpressed. "The sea is right there, you know."

Drift found he could not answer that one. Master Axe walked forward. "I do apologize; it's his first time in this city."

"Then you should have kept him on a leash!"

"How DARE you speak to him that way, you fragger," snarled Drift.

"See what I mean?" the red and blue mech responded.

"Why you--"

"Master Axe, I do apologize!"

The three mechs looked up to see another tall, armoured mech walking over. Unlike the rude brute, he appeared calmer and not as intimidating. His colour scheme was identical, but the armour wasn't polished to the point of shining, and his cape was a lovely shade of blue. The lower half of his face was concealed behind a battle mask, but his optics betrayed his gentle demeanor. Drift had to admit that the armour, despite being the heavy type worn by knights, was nicely crafted. Much better than that of the jerk standing near them.

Master Axe walked over to greet him.

"Op--Orion Pax, it is a joy to see you again."

The newcomer, Orion Pax, merely bowed and offered his hand.  
"The pleasure is all mine, and I apologize for the tardiness. The ship you sailed in docked at the wrong location, and before we could come get you, Ultra Magnus," --he gestured toward the rude mech, "--convinced me that we couldn't leave until he gave the harbormaster a brief on how to do his job properly, which sadly, took about forty five clicks."

"Forty-four clicks forty-seven nano-clicks actually," corrected the rude mech, Ultra Magnus.

"As you can see, he likes to keep precise track of things," laughed Orion.  
Master Axe laughed with him, but Drift was still annoyed with how he was treated. He was the victim here, not that fragging perverted drunkard. Ultra Magnus merely looked down at him while he had some of his underlings take the drunk mech away. Drift glared back until invisible sparks began flashing between them. His first time in a new city and Drift had made his first enemy. Orion Pax noticed the white armoured mech and introduced himself.

"This must be the one?"

"Yes, this is one of my many proud students who has been trained by myself and Dai Atlas. His name is Drift."

"Excuse me, Master Axe, but we need to discuss the damage your proud student has done," Ultra Magnus interrupted.

As Master Axe stepped over with Ultra Magnus to discuss the damage, Orion stood before Drift and smiled under his mask.

"Drift is it? Well thank you so much for coming all the way out here, and I am terribly sorry that your first day in our city wasn't exactly pleasant. Let me be the first to welcome you to Iaconia."  
He offered a hand to the young mech. Drift looked at it, confused. There was an awkward silence.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Orion.

Drift looked up at Orion's face, and then back at his hand. He was confused. Why did Orion Pax want to do it right now, and why here in public? Was it a test of some sort? Was this how Iaconians greeted each other? Aw well, he shouldn't keep him waiting.  
Master Axe, thanking Prima that he was able to convince Ultra Magnus to let this incident slide, looked over to see how his student was coping. To his horror, he saw Drift grab Orion's extended arm and throw him over his shoulder with surprising force. Orion cried out as he crashed into a pile of crates and trash. Bystanders gasped. The knights accompanying Ultra Magnus and Orion Pax gaped. Ultra Magnus himself dropped his notes in shock. Master Axe groaned.

Drift looked over at everyone, confused. "What?"

Ultra Magnus snapped his thick stylus between his fingers. Before Master Axe could stop him, the large mech stormed over and hoisted Drift off his feet until he was at optic level.

"YOU PIT-SPAWNED LITTLE BRAT! I SHOULD SLAP YOU IN IRONS AND THROW YOU IN PRISON TO ROT IN FILTH!"

Drift could only look back at the rude mech with confusion and anger. "Hey, he was the one who gave me the opening. I never turn down a spar; it's an insult if you don't accept! Now put me down, you big oaf!"

Ultra Magnus shook him violently. "MAKE SENSE, YOU SPAWN OF UNICRON!"

Master Axe, figuring out what went wrong with the greeting, stepped in.

"Drift, he wasn't inviting you to spar! He was offering to shake your hand. That is how Iaconians greet each other!"

Drift looked back to his sensei and then back to Ultra Magnus.  
"Well why the slag didn't he tell me?"  
Ultra Magnus began to shake him again whilst Orion was pulled out of the junk by his fellow knights. Wiping the dirt clean from his armour and cape, he straightened up and twisted his neck back into the correct position. He still appeared a little dazed, and his knights had their arms ready in case he fell.

"That young one's got quite a grip," Orion chuckled in a shaky manner before stumbling into a wall.

Ultra Magnus dropped Drift and walked over to his comrade to make certain he was alright. He had to gently slap Orion in the face until he came back to his senses. The rude mech quickly pulled out a rag from somewhere and wiped the remaining dirt from his friend's armour. 

Orion pleaded with Ultra Magnus not to blame Drift because the white mech came from a different culture, and because he was fine other than feeling mildly dazed. Drift grumbled as he stood up and straightened himself out, ignoring the disapproving look his sensei was giving him.

"How was I supposed to know?" the white mech spat, annoyed with how this day was turning out.

\--

Drift apologized to Orion for flinging him into a pile of junk. The noble mech accepted it, and even admitted that he was impressed that someone much smaller than him was able to not only lift him off the ground, but also throw him a considerable distance. Ultra Magnus still insisted that he should serve a day of prison labour for what he did but, thankfully, Orion managed to convince him to give him another chance. Master Axe also took some blame for the incident, admitting that he'd failed to inform Drift about some of the cultural differences he would encounter: those from Crystal City would greet others with a bow, whereas those from Iaconia would greet with a handshake; if one extended their hand to another in Crystal City, it was considered an invite for a hand to hand combat spar. The white mech didn't like the idea of shaking hands, but kept his thoughts to himself. He'd pissed off Ultra Magnus enough already with his cultural differences.

 

With the incident at the docks cleared up, Orion Pax and Ultra Magnus guided the two foreigners to one of the elevators. The elevator was transparent, giving a unique perspective of the crystal falls as the elevator rose through it. Drift watched, entranced by the powerful force of nature as it roared around them. Once they reached the top, they made their way toward the airship station.

The airship station was crowded. Iaconians moved about in every direction, some entering the station and boarding the airships and city trams, others disembarking and leaving. The noblemechs and their foreign guests had to wait for their vessel to arrive.  
Drift took the opportunity to look around and study the Iaconians. The first thing he noticed was their gait. They didn't walk carefully and gracefully like in Crystal City, but in a generally loud and clumsy fashion. Many were taller, and some were even bulkier compared to those back home. Everyone back home was graceful and posed, beautiful and thin. The Iaconians were just...weird. The way they dressed was also strange, and many of them smelt like overpowering crysalis flowers.

"They all look strange," he muttered out loud.

"I swear he's doing this just to offend us," growled Ultra Magnus, offended. Drift glared at the rude mech. 

Orion laughed. "Oh come on now, Ultra Magnus. This is a new experience for him."

"You are far too lenient, Orion Pax," the rude mech sighed.

Master Axe patted Drift on the helm. "Drift here likes to speak his mind, even if it does get him to trouble. When we first started training him he was quite the wild child, but we managed to calm him down. He is now very disciplined, and cares only to hone his skills. I believe he is the perfect choice for-..."

"Master Axe, my we discuss this once we're on the transport?"

Drift glared at Ultra Magnus after he cut his sensei off. "You think I'm rude? You need to look in a mirror! Hypocritical glitchhead."

Ultra Magnus growled again, but Orion Pax stood between them.  
"Now, now. He's going to be with us for a while, so do please try and be friendly."

"I am sorry about him," sighed Master Axe with a weak smile. "He has a tendency to...speak his processor."

"I'm surprised he even has a processor," Ultra Magnus grumbled, earning a growl from Drift. Thankfully, their vessel arrived before the argument could escalate further, and they quickly climbed aboard. 

Drift had never been on a aircraft quite like this one before.  
It was much different from the others docked at the station, for it looked quite glamorous. On the side of the vessel, Drift spied the symbol of the Primes, the Creation Matrix, grafted onto the metal. Was this a vessel designed for the royal family? If it was, why were they climbing on it? Even its crew saluted them as they entered. Drift didn't think their visit would be this important. The door closed, and the vessel shuddered gently as it rose out of the station.

"Finally," Master Axe sighed with relief. "Now then, may I call you by your true name, Orion?"

Drift, confused, looked over toward Orion. The noblemech was facing away from them, and appeared to be removing the battle mask on his face.

"You may," he replied as he undid the clasps on his cape. "I am terribly sorry about it, Master Axe, but if the citizens of my city and possibly outsiders were to discover who I really am, they might react badly. Besides, you know the tradition: no one can see my face until I either ascend to the throne or find a bondmate in another noble. Thankfully, no one really knows what Optimus Prime looks like."

Optimus Prime? Drift thought. What did he have to do with any of this?

Orion handed the mask and old cape to a crew member. Picking up another cape that was waiting for him, he unfurled it, revealing beautiful patterns on its royal blue surface. After clasping it onto his shoulders, he turned around, revealing his face.

"As far as they're concerned," he continued, "I am Orion Pax, an otherwise ordinary mech from a noble family who leads the Autobot Knights. Last thing I want is for all of them to start bowing and treating me like I'm special."

Ultra Magnus shook his head in disapproval as he wrote something down. "Well, you are special, Optimus. You are second in line for the throne, but instead of acting like a Prime should, you're running around with a group of knights, doing things that a Prime shouldn't even think of doing."

"Oh please. Like I would spend my sols hiding in a royal chamber when I could be tackling the problem head on. It's what my elder brother does. Just because he's next in line doesn't mean he can't afford to get his hands dirty."

"I wasn't suggesting I disapprove of what you do. I'm just saying you're being too modest in your role."

"I'm not modest. Am I? Master Axe, am I modest?"

"Well, you give off the aura of someone who never pats himself on the back over the completion of a good deed. A Prime like yourself should be proud of what you have done so far."

"You see, he agrees with me."

"Never thought I would see that sol come."

As the two Iaconians and Master Axe talked amongst themselves, they failed to notice the look of pure horror that emerged on Drift's face once he finally figured out what was going on. The nice tall mech he assumed was a noble knight named Orion Pax, was in fact Optimus Prime. 

A Prime. 

A fragging Prime. A descendant of Primus and the Old Knights of Cybertronia. The rulers of the Cybertronia Empire. A mech of royal blood...and not too long ago, he threw the mech into a pile of dirty crates. To do such a thing to someone with holy blood was unforgivable!

Without any care about how Ultra Magnus would react, he fell to the floor, adopting the "begging for forgiveness" position. 

"Forgive me Lord Prime, I had no idea!" he cried aloud, his face plastered to the floor.

The three elder mechs looked over and were surprised to see the white mech on the floor in a rather painful bow. Optimus sighed, Master Axe laughed, and Ultra Magnus rolled his optics.

"Oh, so now you're treating him with the proper respect," the rude mech sneered. "Earlier on, you clearly didn't give a damn!"

"Earlier on, I had no fragging idea he was a Prime, you *****!" snapped Drift, glaring up at him.

Ultra Magnus growled again but Optimus Prime stepped over and helped Drift up.

"I have to apologize again to you Drift, but yes, I am Optimus Prime, not Orion Pax. I use the false identity so I can serve my people without causing alarm. The only ones who know the truth are my family, very close friends, and the Autobot Knights I command, along with Ultra Magnus and Master Axe. There is no need to act like this, and please, treat me as if I were Orion Pax. I personally do not prefer formalities."

Drift gulped as Optimus gave him a kind, albeit stern expression. This was his first time standing before a Prime, and it hadn't gone as he had envisioned it. Still, he was surprised that he was able to get so close to one, even touch one. Heck, he even threw him over his shoulder. This Prime certainly had a handsome face, though he could just make out a faint silver scar across his left cheek. He also bore kind blue optics that expressed his gentle yet strict demeanor. And yet, Drift could sense that there was something wrong with him... something he was hiding deep within.

As Optimus stepped back to give Drift some space, Master Axe gave the young mech a pat on the shoulder. "I would have told you sooner, but Optimus Prime needs to keep his identity a secret whilst in public."

"But surely someone must recognize him though?" Drift asked, watching as Optimus spoke in low tones with Ultra Magnus.

"No, actually. The public only knows what the current reigning Prime, at this point Nominus, looks like. They know that he has three sons, but they have no idea what they look like or even what their names are. Only those who live at or work inside the Iaconia Palace, along with the Primes' personal friends, the members of the Cybertronia Senate, and other cleared officials or guests, including myself, know their identities. The origin of the practice isn't known, but it has been suggested that it was originally a measure against would-be-assassins. Others think it's simply a rooted tradition with no explanation, since it has been like that since they first come about. However it originated, their faces aren't revealed to the public until they either ascend to the throne or bond with a noble, whatever comes first. Sometimes, one will reveal their face earlier than that, but only rarely does one choose do that, and it requires a good reason that must be approved by the Senate."

Drift was surprised. Why hide them away? Was it out of fear? Was it really a tradition? If it was, then that had to be the dumbest tradition he'd ever heard of. Who wouldn't want to see the entire royal family of Iaconia? The Prime bloodline standing together, tall and proud before their people. It would be such a magnificent sight that even the Old Knights of Cybertronia would be overwhelmed. In Crystal City, everyone knew of Dai Atlas and his son, Wing. He was also certain that was what it was like with Duke Ratbat and his family in Kaonol. Why did the Primes, the most important bloodline in their world, hide away their children until they became useful?

The guests were escorted into what a lounge with large windows, giving providing a panoramic view of the city. Drift could not help but lean over the railings to watch the sights, ignoring the disapproving look Ultra Magnus gave him.

"I was surprised that you decided to travel by sea, rather than take the grand aircraft over here," Optimus noted as he took his seat.

"Ah. In the Crystal City, it's a tradition that the first journey you take from it must be taken by sea," replied Master Axe.

"To mimic the journey Prima took to find the land where his children would rule over Cybertronia, correct?" asked Ultra Magnus.

"Yes, and this was Drift's first time out of Crystal City."

There was a moment of silence as the three looked over at Drift, who was still admiring the view.

"Drift? May I speak with you?"

The young mech quickly stood at attention before Optimus Prime.

"You can sit, young mech, I don't expect you to stand before me like this all the time."

Drift nodded and sat down next to Master Axe. Optimus sat up, resting his arms upon his legs.

"Master Axe has discussed with you why you've come, yes?"

The young mech could not help but frown as he nodded, clenching his hands upon his thighs. He still wasn't pleased that he was going to be stuck here for two stellar cycles with someone he barely knew, the fact that it was Prime notwithstanding. Both Optimus and Ultra Magnus decided to ignore it for the time being.

"I just wanted to be the first to say thank you for accepting this duty of becoming a companion of sorts for my younger brother. He's been locked away in the palace all his life, and consequently he has been unable to make any friends. Though Sentinel and I have gone through it, this is a difficult time in his life, and I was desperate to find someone who would make the final days of his youth more lively. When Master Axe informed me of you, I was thrilled. You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep this a secret from my brother. Meeting someone from another land would please him, and I'm certain that your stay here in our land will also please you. This is also a perfect way for our two nations to become closer, so this task of yours is far greater than you realize."

Drift nodded, but he sighed as he did it. Optimus grew concerned.

"Are you not happy with this?"

"You see Optimus Prime...I didn't tell him what he was going to do until we were close to Iaconia. I merely wanted to surprise him, but..."

No further words were needed, and it was Optimus Prime's turn to sigh. "You do not wish to be here?"

"Ungrateful little..." grumbled Ultra Magnus.

Drift looked up, refusing to express any sign of remorse. "It is true that I'm not exactly pleased about this, but I will do as I am instructed by my sensei. I will be your brother's companion for the next two stellar cycles, Lord Prime." The displeasure in his voice was clear. 

"I won't keep you here against your will, Drift," Optimus replied. "I am more than happy for you to return home with Master Axe, once he completes his task here."

Drift considered this for a moment. Master Axe was only going to be here for a few days before he returned home. If he didn't leave with him, then he would have to wait two whole stellar cycles until he could ever see the shores of Crystal City again. Should he take the opportunity given to him and leave along with his sensei? Or should he stay and follow some pampered brat around? What should he do? He really wanted to go home and continue his training alongside his friend Wing and his fellow students. However, Optimus Prime said that this was important for both their nations. What should he do?

"Why don't you decide after you meet him, Drift?" Master Axe suggested, nevertheless hoping his young student wouldn't back out of this opportunity.

Drift stared at the two Iaconians before him. Ultra Magnus was giving him a cold cruel glare, clearly displeased with how the young mech behaved up to this point. He clearly didn't care if he stayed. In fact it might please him if he didn't. Optimus Prime was looking at him calmly, but a hint of desperation tinged his optics. Drift could painfully see that the young Prime was hoping he would stay, but he wouldn't say it. It wouldn't hurt just to meet with him, right? He could put up with some pampered Prime for a few days until he returned home.

Master Axe said it was an honor to serve a Prime, but Drift just wasn't sure yet. A few days was all he needed to get his head sorted. Maybe a few days was all this Rodimus Prime needed. Maybe he wouldn't need someone like him to hang around for a whole two stellar cycles.

"I can't exactly go home until Master Axe is finished, so I have no choice, do I?" he grumbled in defeat.  
Ultra Magnus looked ready to lunge at him, but Optimus held him back, a pleased expression appearing his face.

"Excellent! Once we arrive, I'll introduce you to him."

As Optimus Prime tried to calm Ultra Magnus down, Master Axe leaned down to Drift's audio. "I do wish you would try and sound polite when talking to others."

Drift merely looked away and huffed. He just wanted to get this over and done with.


	3. Chapter 3

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - teenagers playing in the dirt

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Despite Ultra Magnus' claim that it wouldn't take long, the flight was taking quite some time. Drift wondered if Iacon had different perceptions of distance and time or something, because he was certain they had been airborne for half a sol already. He had long since resumed looking out the windows at the amazing sites of the vast city, while Optimus Prime spoke with Master Axe about various things that didn't concern him. He'd never admit it, but the white mech was actually starting to wonder what this Rodimus Prime was like. Maybe he looked like Optimus, only shorter. Or maybe he was something like Ultra Magnus, only more spoilt and rude. Whatever. If this Rodimus was indeed going to treat him like a common servant, then he was leaving with Master Axe.

A few moments passed before Optimus Prime tapped him on the shoulder and pointed out the window. Drift followed his finger, and was greeted with an amazing sight. He had seen it in paintings back home, but to actually see it in the protoform made the white mech gasp out loud.

The Palace of the Primes. It was... amazing. That was the only way he could describe it. Drift couldn't look away if he wanted to; this was a sight that even Dai Atlas would gape at. 

The palace itself sat atop a mountain that rose toward the heavens, high above the rest of the city. The mountain itself grew out of a deep crater, forming a natural buffer. The palace grounds occupied the upper three quarters of the mountain, its elegant golden and white buildings spiraling downward from the summit. Statues of past Primes stood around the grounds, their stony presence warding off evil, and, it so seemed, welcoming allies.

The lower two thirds of the mountain were dotted with smaller and less grand, though no less elegant, buildings that were apparently the homes of nobles and various important non-royals. Several guarded bridges spanned the crater from the rim to the bottom of the lower levels, providing access to the mountain as a whole.

Drift wondered if there were any reasons other than security for the palace's location on the slopes of a mountain. Was it because of the view of the capital it afforded? Was it intended to be a bridge between the land and the sky, or the material and spiritual worlds? Somehow, both seemed to fit.

The royal vessel circled the mountain before it maneuvered into the palace's docking station. This gave Drift the chance to see the entire palace grounds, which, as he noticed, would have been impossible from only one angle. The grounds, which wrapped around the mountain, were the size of a small city. The palace itself was easily the largest building, its walls covered in intricate patterns. Mechs and femmes were visible on the grounds, although from this distance they looked like specks. A number of courtyards were scattered across the grounds, most decorated with statues. A few of them were shaped; Drift picked out one resembling the blade of Prima and another shaped like the Creation Matrix. Another courtyard, upon closer inspection, appeared to be a training ground; some knights could be seen practicing with it. Numerous smaller buildings, all as beautiful and grand as the main palace, dotted the grounds. One of them appeared to be a Temple of Primus. Another was possibly a large ballroom.  
Topping it off was a sizable grove of azure trees on the grounds. It only occupied about one tenth of the grounds, demonstrating their size 

This truly was a palace fit for a Prime.

Drift was again tapped on the shoulder, this time by Master Axe. "Come on Drift. We're docking now."

Drift followed him, along with Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, towards the hatch. He was eager to see the palace up close, and maybe even see Nominus Prime. Wing had told him before he left that he would be lucky to see the ruling Prime, and that he did, he wanted to know what he was like. Drift doubted he would see the reigning Prime, but then again, he had already met Optimus Prime. Who knew?

Exiting the vessel, Drift had to shield his optics from the bright light for a moment. Once they adjusted he looked up at the palace. He still felt like he was in a city, only grander. Up ahead, Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus were passing through a row of tall, albeit ceremonial, knights, all of whom saluted at the return of one of their Primes. Master Axe followed with Drift in tow, the younger mech trying to look dignified. Up ahead a mech dressed in odd robes announced their arrival.

"Returning to the Palace of the Primes, His Excellency, the second born son of our Lord Nominus Prime, Commander of the Autobot Knights, Optimus Prime."

Drift almost jumped at the loud and quick cry from the knights around them.

"Returning to the Palace of the Primes, Lord Protector of Iaconia Central, Vice-Commander of the Autobot Knights, Sir Ultra Magnus."

Drift was prepared this time for the loud cry.

"Arriving from the shores of Crystal City, a respected mech of the Circle and a valued member of the Cybertronia Senate, Master Axe, and guest."  
This time they saluted with their blades—wait. Guest?

"Guest?" grumbled Drift.

"What? You were expecting a special introduction as well?"

"Well, it would have been better than guest."  
Climbing a set of steps, Drift found himself in a large courtyard, an elaborate fountain in the center. The sights he saw from the air were hidden by the walls surrounding it, so he would have to wait before he could see the rest of the grounds. Out of seemingly nowhere, they were greeted by an even taller Iaconian. Clad in golden-orange and white armour, with a brilliant golden cape flowing out behind him, and a magnificent blade strapped to his waist belt, he looked as magnificent as Optimus Prime. However, in a stark contrast to Optimus' open and kind demeanor, this mech bore a strict, uncaring expression. He also had a sense of might and an aura of pure will and control about him. Drift couldn't take his optics off him. It was like he was looking at a God, maybe even one of the Old Knights of Cybertronia.

As he approached Master Axe quickly bowed and urged Drift to do the same. "That's Sentinel Prime. First born of Nominus and first in line to the throne," whispered his sensei.

Drift gulped. No wonder he looked magnificent. In fact, Drift wouldn't be surprised if he was the ruling Prime; he certainly looked the part. It was actually making him wonder, what did Nominus Prime looked like? In fact, what did this Rodimus Prime look like? Was he just as beautiful and grand?

Standing up, he tried to avoid optic contact as Sentinel greeted them.  
"Master Axe, it has been far too long."

Drift observed as his sensei 'shook hands' with Sentinel Prime, then engaged in a strange hug with them patting each other's back.

"You've certainly grown some since our last encounter, Sentinel. Last time I saw you, you barely reached my head."

"Yes, he surprised us all with that sudden growth spurt," chuckled Optimus. "Well you know how it is. Us Primes have to stand above the rest, don't we?"

"At this rate you'll be taller than your father."

"I seriously doubt that, but then again, he surprised us in the past with his growth."

"What can I say? I must have the past Primes looking out for me."

As the mechs laughed among themselves Drift sighed and folded his arms. He really hated it when older mechs chatted like this and forget about him. It was highly annoying, and it made him feel ignored. Even if two of them were Primes, old mech talk was a horrible thing for a mech who was nearly six vorns old to listen to.

Thankfully, Sentinel Prime noticed him, though he didn't look impressed.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice betraying slight concern.

Optimus stepped over to the young mech and stood behind him, placing his hands upon his shoulders.

"Sentinel, this is Drift, a young knight from Crystal City, and a soon to be member of the Circle. He has come with Master Axe by special request. I am hoping he will be Rodimus' companion until he reaches his sixth vorn. It would be a delightful experience for both of them, and may even forge an even stronger bond between our two nations."

Drift smiled a little and stood to attention, wanting to at least look smart before the next ruling Prime. He was hoping this Sentinel Prime would welcome him the same way Optimus, had but so far, he was staring at him with an unimpressed expression. An awkward silence descended upon the courtyard, and everyone, with the exception of Ultra Magnus, was becoming uneasy.

"Why was I not told of this?" demanded the older Prime, looking annoyed.

"I wanted to surprise Rodimus," replied Optimus calmly.

Sentinel groaned and rubbed his brow. Master Axe was very concerned, and Drift felt like he was trapped in the most awkward situation ever.

"You do realize that our father will be very upset if he finds out about this, especially since it involves Rodimus!"  
"I'm going to tell him, Sentinel, and I'm certain he will agree with me."

"Before or after he attempts to slice you into pieces?"

"Sentinel please! I believe our father would be pleased that someone like Drift here would keep an optic on our little brother."

"That's what his bodyguard is for."

"He needs friends, Sentinel, not someone who follows him around only with his safety in mind."

"You know perfectly well that you have to consult him before running off and doing things like this behind his back!"

Drift felt like he wanted to sink into the ground and vanish. Caught in the middle of an argument between two Primes had to be the worst thing ever for someone like him, especially since he was smack dab in the middle of it all. He looked to Master Axe, who was starting to look quite concerned. If Master Axe was concerned, then this was a very bad situation. Glancing over at Ultra Magnus, the rude mech just stood and watched. He showed no interest in the situation, but appeared ready to jump into action if something happened.

Did they always argue like this? He had to admit that Sentinel Prime didn't seem like a nice mech compared to the Prime standing behind him. He was polite, silver-tongued, and social, but Drift sensed a darker persona within him. It was as if he was keeping a ruthless monster at bay inside himself with sheer willpower. He could unleash this terrible beast at any moment but kept it chained up until it was needed. It was almost enough to frighten Drift, and not many things scared the white mech apart from failing. Optimus was a little different. He had the same mighty aura as Sentinel, but deep within Drift sensed an untamed sea of bitter sadness, swept by storms of self-loathing and gales of guilt, all concealed behind a veil of false positive emotion.

Were all Primes this complicated? He had always assumed that Primes were the image of perfection, but now... Had Master Axe failed to inform him of this, or was he going to "surprise" him again? As the two Primes continued to bicker among themselves, Drift's concern with them grew until it consumed him. What was Nominus like? What was Rodimus like? Were they as complex and divided as these two? By Prima's blade he did not want to find out. If this was how his life was going to be for the next two stellar cycles, then he was going to take the opportunity to leave with his sensei once his business was complete.

"Look, he can't leave until Master Axe has concluded his business with us. I'll talk with father and take any blame he gives me. Until then, would you please at least allow Drift to meet with him?"

Sentinel Prime sighed in frustration and gave Drift a menacing look.  
"Fine, but if anything happens--"

"I assure you, Sentinel Prime that Drift here is dedicated to his training as a Knight of the Circle." Master Axe added. "He wouldn't dream of causing any harm to anyone, especially a Prime. You have my word as a member of the Circle on that."

The golden and orange mech frowned and clenched his fists, his massive frame trembling ever so slightly. Despite the reassuring words from Master Axe, he still looked like he wanted to throw the white mech out of the palace. Drift briefly thought he was going to hit him and leaned back against the grip Optimus had on him.

A few moments passed before Sentinel let out a deep sigh.  
"Very well, but I will not take any blame for this."

"Of course you won't," replied Optimus, patting Drift on the shoulder. "Where is Rodimus anyway?"

Sentinel folded his arms, still angry about Drift's presence. "He's not that far, thank Primus. He's in the Solus Prime courtyard, moping as usual."

Optimus frowned. "What happened this time?"

"The same thing he always mopes about. Wanted to do something he knows damn well he can't do and got told off."

The blue and red Prime sighed. Sentinel just stood, clearly not caring about the issue. Optimus looked down at Drift, hope in his optics.

"Drift, the Solus Prime courtyard is just through that passageway. Why don't you go ahead and meet him?"

"Is that wise, Optimus Prime?" asked Ultra Magnus.

"It's only over there, Ultra Magnus. I doubt he'll get lost."

"No, I mean allowing him to walk through the palace without an escort. Especially with those blades of his."

The concern elicited an angry glare from Drift, and a chuckle from Optimus.

"He'll be fine, old friend. Besides, you know full well that members of the Circle only raise their blades in defense of the weak. Now, we've kept Master Axe waiting long enough, so let's allow the young one to meet with Rodimus, and we can proceed to the main hall. I'm sorry Drift, but we must make haste. Just go through that passageway and you'll be there."

Sentinel gave a sharp nod as Optimus finished with the young mech. He turned so quickly that his cape snapped the air behind him. Ultra Magnus followed him along with Optimus, the three Iaconians making their way to wherever they had to be apparently. Master Axe gave Drift a final look of reassurance before nodding his head towards the courtyard where Rodimus Prime awaited him. Drift bowed respectfully before heading off in that direction.

"This is turning out to be one weird sol," he sighed, entering the passageway.

To walk alone in such a huge palace all by himself was both thrilling and worrisome. Yes, it was a joy to walk in privacy and admire the grounds without anyone bothering him but at the same time he was half expecting someone to jump out and accuse him of breaking a rule of some sort. Maybe he was just being paranoid? Aw well, Optimus Prime trusted him to walk about his palace unescorted so he shouldn't have to worry. Soon he would be meeting with Rodimus Prime and he found that he was getting anxious to meet him.

Exiting the passage, he came into a grand courtyard. A statue of a past Prime holding a mighty hammer stood in the center, surrounded with crysalis flowers and decorations. The courtyard was open on one side, providing a view of the azure tree forest he had previously seen from the air. He was so lost in the sheer awesomeness that this palace provided that he almost forgot about the Prime he was supposed to meet. Looking around he finally sensed someone close by.

Walking past the statue, he saw a figure sitting on a bench, facing away from him. Drift couldn't see him properly, but he assumed that this was Rodimus Prime. Who else could it be? The white mech approached quietly and carefully. He didn't want the young Prime to notice him until he was closer, and besides, this gave him the unparalleled chance to test his stealthiness against a Prime. 

The closer he got the more he could make out. The young mech on the bench had a helm of royal red, while a sunset-colored cape hung down from behind a golden spoiler on his upper back. Under the bench, his feet were clad in the same royal red armour as his helm. The appearance was decidedly regal, but Drift quickly noticed the mood the mech was in.

Anger. Bitter hatred. Confusion. Sadness.

The young Prime was clearly upset, and Drift was having second thoughts about meeting him. He had already seen one upset Prime, and he wasn't really keen to see another. Perhaps it would be best if he came back later and just sat in another courtyard until Master Axe came back for him.  
However, before he could leave, a set of bright blue optics looked in his direction.

Drift froze when he realized that the young Prime had noticed him. The brightly-colored Prime sat perfectly still as he stared at the white mech.

"Who are you?"

Drift gulped, unable to look away.

Like his older brothers, Rodimus had a fair face. Make that a very fair face. Drift had seen a number of pretty mechs and femmes in his life, but this one topped them all without question. Everything about his appearance was perfect. His optics were light blue, and set in a beautifully decorated helm that highlighted his fine face. And his voice...it was youthful and soothing, much like listening to a sweet melody in the twilight of a long sol. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

"I said, who are you?"

Drift flinched, broken from the trance he had fallen into.

"I-I...I am...er..." 

Frag. Did he just forget his own name?

The young Prime huffed and stood up, coming around the bench until he stood in full view before the white mech.

Drift's jaw dropped. Not only did the young Prime bear a pretty face, he had a figure that Primus himself must have crafted personally. No one else, mech of femme, could look so gorgeous. The young Prime was certainly the pinnacle of perfection for his generation. He was decorated in sunset gold and royal red armour over a dark tunic and stockings that were fitted gracefully over his body and limbs. The belt that sat upon his waist held his lower armour in place and at the same time made you want to look at it. 

Rodimus Prime was simply too beautiful for mere words.

"So… who are you?" asked the young Prime again.

The white mech flinched. He wanted to say something, but his glossa was tied. The Prime frowned and stepped towards Drift. The Crystal City mech stepping back in a clumsily.

"Are you an assassin?" the Prime prodded.

Drift's spark jolted. He realized that he was still carrying his blades. Given their size, it didn't surprise him that someone from the palace would mistake him for an assassin.

"W-what? NO! I'm not a--"

"Have you come to kill me?"

"K-kill you? No, no...I--"

"Because if you have, I have to say you're rather clumsy for an assassin!"

"I'M NOT AN ASSASSIN!"

Drift shuddered, amazed that the Prime thought he was out for his life. To his surprise, the younger mech looked disappointed.

"Oh… So if you're not an assassin, you must be a kidnapper!"

"What? No I'm not! I'm--"

"So who hired you? Are you going to tie me up and carry me away?"

Drift's face turned a red at the thought of tying up the strange Prime before him. He quickly banished these thoughts so he could explain himself.

"I'm not a kidnapper!"

"Are you a thief, then?"

"No."

"A spy?"

"No!"

"A pervert?"

"NO!"

The young Prime folded his arms and frowned.

"So who in the name of Primus are you?"

Drift managed to hold back a growl, but he exploded angrily after being mistaking for things he was clearly not. "I am a student of the Circle from Crystal City, currently in training to be a full fledged member of the circle and in the process of mastering the ultimate Blade Technique from my sensei! I have come here to be your companion for the next two stellar cycles by request from Optimus Prime. I'm not an assassin, a kidnapper, a thief, a spy or a pervert!"

The white mech vented heavily as he glared at the Prime, who seemed surprised that someone had raised his voice at him. There was a moment of silence before Drift realized what a mistake he had just made. He had raised his voice before a Prime. Yes, he annoyed him, but to snap at someone with such holy blood was unforgivable. He was certain that Rodimus was going to call the guards and have him arrested. He actually stepped back a little, worried that the young Prime was going to scream any nano-click. 

Much to his shock, Rodimus smiled, and seconds later was in his face. "You're weird," he giggled.

Drift gulped, uncomfortable with the sudden invasion of his personal space. He tried to step away from Rodimus, but the Prime maintained the proximity.

"S-stop standing so close!"

"Why?" he asked in a teasing way.

"Because I don't like it!"

"Then why are you blushing?"

"Q-quit it!"

"But I don't want to."

"I said stop it!"

"You're a funny weirdo!"

"Y-you're the weird one!"

Drift was so flustered and confused with the way the flamboyant mech was treating him, he forget that he was in fact a Prime. This was not a mech with holy blood, it seemed; rather, it was a little brat who took pleasure in teasing him. He was speaking in a fashion that he would use with someone from the same lifestyle as his own. Drift was not expecting this. Sure, he was expecting someone rude and maybe even spoiled, but not someone whose behavior was downright childish.

The young Prime continued to invade Drift's personal space to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. If this was what he had to put up with for the next two stellar cycles, then he'd rather get chewed out by Dai Atlas when he returned to Crystal City. He tried to turn and flee but to his horror the young Prime grabbed his red cloak, halting his escape.

"Let go!" he demanded.

"No!" laughed the young Prime.

"I said, let me go!" cried Drift, pulling at his cloak.

The young Prime merely pulled in return. "Make me!" 

Drift growled, his patience running out. Using all his strength, he pulled on his cloak as hard he could. The young Prime lost his grip and forward. Drift, no longer pulling any weight, staggered back and fell onto his aft. He'd intended for the weird mech to let g,o but to his horror he found that the young Prime had landed face-first in a patch of crystal flowers. The young mech pushed himself up, revealing the mess on the front of his body. His torso was black, covered in a film of oil. Chunks of saturated mulch as well as pieces of the crushed flowers clung to it, the latter standing out garishly against the filth.

This was not good. Drift had not meant for this to happen. What was he going to do? What was going to happen to him? The moment the young Prime got his balance back and his mind sorted, he was going to call the guards and have him arrested. He had to do something to make this right.

"I-I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

SPLAT!

Drift was caught off guard yet again when a ball of greasy mulch slapped him in the face. He staggered back and gasped as the foul smelling wad slowly fell off his face and onto his torso. Wiping his face and clearing his optics he saw the young Prime had gathered a ball of the mulch in his hand. With a mischievous grin painted on his face, it was plain as the sol what he had done.

Drift growled. "That wasn't fun--"

SPLAT!

Another ball of oily mulch smacked against his chassis, staining his pure white armour an inky black. Rodimus laughed as he prepared another volley.

 

Drift finally snapped. Looking around, he quickly scooped up some mulch of his own, and before Rodimus could throw his third mulch weapon, Drift returned fire. Rodimus gasped as the mulch smacked against his face, almost causing him to drop the one in his hand. For a moment, he did nothing. Drift smirked triumphantly, figuring that he would quit after getting a taste of his own medicine.

Another smack to the face with mud told him otherwise. "Oh. Is that how you wanna play?" Drift snapped, wiping the muck from his face.

SPLAT!

Drift threw another one, hitting Rodimus on the chassis. The young Prime returned it, landing one on Drift's torso. The white mech in turn nailed one on the Prime's face. The red mech threw one that hit Drift's neck.

Soon the courtyard became a battleground. Weapons of mulch and oil were thrown through the air, all either hitting or just missing their target. Drift easily ducked a few but failed to dodge most of them, crying out in rage as they pelted against his body. Rodimus laughed as he used the statue in the middle of the courtyard as a shield, only appearing to lob volleys of muck at his opponent. Before long, Drift's brilliant white armour and red cloak were filthy, and the young Prime looked more like a dirty street urchin. Both failed to notice their current state, for they were determined to get each other looking like a scrap pile.

Refusing to yield, Drift gathered up a large ball of mulch and threw it at the Rodimus the moment he stepped into view. The once-red mech shrieked as the wad exploded against him, but laughed as he continued to throw smaller balls of mulch at Drift. The previously-white spluttered as some ended up inside his mouth. 

Exasperated, Drift decided it was time to change tactics. Scooping up a large handful of mulch, he ran towards Rodimus. The Prime cried out in glee as he ducked behind the statue. Drift tried to give chase, but to his surprise, the young Prime had already circled the whole thing. Moments later, Rodimus caught him.

Drift let out an embarrassing cry when he felt his opponent's fingers tickling his sensitive sides.

"N-no! Ha...haha...NO...ha...stop!" he wailed in between fits of giggles.

The young Prime only intensified his attack. "You can't make me!" he cried with delight as he forced Drift to his knees.  
Drift laughed vainly as he tried to escape the young Prime's grip. He fell to the ground, the Prime still holding him tight.

Refusing to accept defeat, he twisted around and grabbed Rodimus' waist, tickling what he hoped was a sensitive area. The young Prime shrieked at first but he too started giggling madly as Drift continued his counterattack. Drift hoped the Prime would let go, but he hadn't.

"Y-you...hahaha...c-cheat! Haha...cheater...hahaha!"

"Hahaha...f-frag you...hahahaha!"

The two, refusing to give up, continued to roll around in the dirt and tickle each other madly. Their legs getting tangled, their cries and laughter filled the courtyard with a child-like atmosphere. Their armour and clothing were soon completely covered in mud, and their attitude toward each other was strangely welcoming.

For a split nano-click, Drift felt something he hadn't felt before. It was familiar, yet at the same time alien. In that split nano-click, with the pair of them tumbling through the grunge tickling each other, Drift felt…

Happy.

He was enjoying this. This off-the-wall activity was actually making him happy. Completely lost in their competitive brawl, the two young mechs rolled about, laughing madly, until the smacked into something. The pair stopped and looked up, thinking they had crashed into the statue.

To Drift's shock, he found himself looking at three sets of optics. One pair belonged to an annoyed looking Ultra Magnus. Another belonged to an angry Sentinel Prime. The last pair belonged to a surprised Optimus Prime.  
The three of them looked down at the two young mechs, who were still tangled in each other's limbs and covered in oil and clumps of mulch. Nothing was said, but Drift could see the anger building up in the two elder Iaconians, whilst the other seemed merely mystified. Rodimus Prime, still clinging to him, nervously smiled, whilst Drift continued stared up at them.  
With an air of calm dignity, he explained the situation.

"He started it."


	4. Chapter 4

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - Drift taking a bath

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

With most of his body submerged in hot cleansing oil, Drift blew some frustrated bubbles and glared into space. The warm oil was hotter than he was used to but it actually helped him calm down. It wouldn't surprise him if his anger was heating the very body of liquid he occupied. At least his surroundings were relaxing in their strange way. The bathing room was pale blue colour that also aided his mediation and there was even some scented crystal flowers that reminded him of home. His armour and cloak hung from a rack nearby after he quickly washed them. All of the filth was now gone and they sparkled with cleanliness. He ignored his sensei, whom was talking to him from another room and telling him not to be so upset after what just happened, in fact he found it rather amusing. Drift just huffed. How could he not be upset? How could his sensei just act like it was no big deal?

He had a fight with a Prime. He had a fight with a Prime he was supposed to be friends with. Not only did he throw a Prime into a pile of junk earlier on back at the docks but he also tackled another Prime into the mulch. If this had been a few million vorns ago his hands would have been chopped off and his optics ripped out. For someone like himself to do such a thing with a Prime was unforgivable.

So far his first day in Iaconia was not turning out to be that great. He got seasick on the way over, found out he was going to be stuck there for two stellar cycles, got groped by a drunk, mistook a handshake for an invite for a spar, pretty much made himself look like an idiot before the second born Prime, got belittled by some rude vice-commander and then got into a fight with the one he was supposed to be friends with. He still remembered how embarrassed he was after getting discovered.

Sentinel Prime screamed at the pair of them, telling Drift that this was not what he expected from someone from such a respected land and telling Rodimus that this was not how a young Prime was supposed to behave. Before he could even defend himself and put the blame on the young Prime he then got dragged away from the courtyard by Ultra Magnus, carried through some corridors and hallways and was suddenly dumped in a strange looking cleaning room where Master Axe eventually came to explain how to use it.

This had to be the worst day in his life. All he wanted was so to back home. He wanted to erase this day from his mind and never remember it ever again.

"I have to admit Drift, I never thought I would live to see the day when you actually acted your age!"

"Mechs my age don't mess around in the mud," grumbled Drift, sinking his head lower into the water.

"Actually they do Drift, you're just trying to act like an adult."

"I'm almost six vorns, I let my guard down and acted like a child."

"When I was your age I climbed trees and swam in lakes. You've never done any of those things when you were four vorns old."

"Maybe because I do not wish to."

"Wish to act like a child? Even we adults want to return to our childhood, there's no shame in it."

Drift ignored him and allowed himself to sink into the hot oil until everything around became silent. Thankfully his sensei had failed to notice that his student could no longer hear him and continued to lecture the young mech. Completely submerged in the warmth of the soothing liquid he tried to clear his troubled mind but was finding it difficult.

Why couldn't he forget? The way he laughed. The way he held him. The way he treated him. It was all so weird...yet he liked it. Why did he liked it? Why was this Rodimus so strange?

Optimus Prime was strange and so was Ultra Magnus. Nothing like what he had anticipated after hearing the stories from his elders. Sentinel Prime was strange too. So complex and someone who clearly only thought of himself. Everyone in Iaconia was strange to him. The way they walked and talked, even their smell was weird. Yet this Prime...this young mech was so different compared to the rest of them. What made this young Prime stand out from them? What made Rodimus Prime unique compared to the rest of them?

He was pretty yes but Drift wasn't the type who would go for looks alone. Plus he really wasn't his type after what had just happened, Drift preferred either mechs or femmes that acted mature. His personality was bizarre too and something like that always put the white armoured mech off. So how the frag did he managed to get him wrestle in the mud? What made him lose his cool? How the frag did he managed to get him to tickle fight? Why couldn't he get him out of his head?

Why?

Why?

A sudden tap on his head made him rise up from the warm oil. Looking up he found Master Axe stood by the bathtub with a towel ready, his lips forming a tired frown. "What have I told you about ignoring me?" he grumbled, ushering Drift to exit the tub.

Drift sighed as he climbed out and allowed his sensei to wrap the towel around his sleek body. "Iaconian baths are weird," he mumbled.

"Don't change the subject."

"But they are!"

Master Axe sighed as he stepped out to allow Drift some privacy, the young mech quickly drying himself. The young mech wasn't used to such a weird bath style that the people of Iaconia used. Who ever heard of soaking in hot cleansing oil with the soap? You were supposed to soak then scrub yourself clean with soap. Once he was dry he began to apply his already dry and clean armour. "Are you planning to stay?" asked Master Axe, "Have you made your decision?"

"I only have one set of armour!" replied Drift.

"They can provide you with some."

"I'm not going to wear their bulky junk!"

"Then I can have your spare ones shipped over."

"I haven't decided yet."

"To stay you mean?"

"Everything!"

Drift suddenly marched out of the bathroom, mostly dressed and collapsed on the weird berth in a huff. He was trying desperately not to sulk but not even his optic shields could hold back his frustrated tears. He hated this. He had come here hoping to impress the great Primes but because of some silly fight he got into with a young Prime he disgraced himself before those with the blood of Primus. Now he just wanted to go home and forget this whole ordeal ever happened. He didn't care if they would laugh, he just wanted to return home.

Master Axe sighed and sat nearby, patting the young mech on the back. Drift was still young, though the youngster refused to admit it. All he could do was try to resolve the situation before it could get any worse. "What's wrong Drift? I thought this would make you happy."

Drift moaned against the sheets. "I don't know," he mumbled.

The black armoured mech sighed as he continued to pat his student on the back. "Though you act like an adult, you forget that you lack the wisdom that comes with age. All of this was suddenly dropped onto you because we all believed that you could handle it. Yet it would seem that we forgot that you are still young."

Drift huffed. "I'm nearly six vorns," was his argument.

"I've seen young mechs who have passed their six vorn play in the forests of our land and build castles of sand on our beaches. Just because you believe in your mind that being a certain age requires a suitable behaviour does not mean it can hide what you truly yearn to be inside."

Drift peeped up. "What does that mean?"

Master Axe chuckled. "I'm saying Drift that maybe...you still want to be a child and maybe it was the young Prime who managed to force it out of you." The young mech pondered this. He had never acted like this until he met Rodimus Prime. Back home everyone behaved in a respected manner and no one ever forced others into a tickle-mulch fight. It was the first time he had ever met someone like the young Prime thus explaining why he suddenly acted like the way he did before. Rodimus Prime clearly took him by surprise and he was caught off guard. Well not again. He wasn't going to let the young Prime make a fool put of him.

His sensei gave him one final pat before standing up. "Now hurry up and get ready Drift. We're expected for dinner with the Primes tonight."

"All of them?" asked Drift, sitting up in a panic. "Are they all going to be there?" The last thing he wanted was to sit across from Nominus Prime after learning that he fought with his youngest son. He didn't even wish to face Sentinel again, nor Optimus and he most certainly did not want to see that Rodimus again until the next sol.

Master Axe chuckled as he pulled Drift off the berth. "No, Nominus Prime won't be attending the evening meal with us. He rarely attends any meals even with his own sons. Even if they are with guests he rarely attends. No, it will just be you and me and the three Prime's you've already met."

Drift responded with an "oh," and quickly got himself changed into his clean armour. Although he was thankful that the ruling Prime wasn't going to be with them he still wasn't looking forward to sitting with the young Prime, who made a fool out of him. This was also an opportunity to regain his dignity before the older Primes. Optimus might be willing to forgive him but he wasn't so sure about that Sentinel. If Optimus had not been there in that courtyard Sentinel would have ripped his head off or something. This was his chance to earn their forgiveness, to redeem himself in their optics. He could only hope that Rodimus wouldn't ruin it. He already found he disliked the young Prime.


	5. Chapter 5

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - Boys getting competitive

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Keeping his head down as he followed his sensei through the palace, Drift was going over some phrases in his head; preparing to properly apologize to both Optimus and Sentinel once he came across them. He had to show his sincerity and act dignified whilst giving his apology. Perhaps it would be best to adopt the forgiveness bow he had used earlier; hopefully that would impress them and make them see that he was truly sorry for causing trouble.

"It wasn't exactly my fault to begin with," he told himself. He peered up at his sensei who merely looked back with an encouraging smile. He seemed confident. Drift could only hope he could make it to the next sol without anything else happening to ruin his already tarnished honour. "I just hope that Rodimus doesn't do anything to provoke me."

The walk to this dinning hall was taking a while but Master Axe seemed to know where he was going. The palace was bigger inside than it was outside, the whole place was like a giant maze where only the skilled knew where to tread. Everything was decorated to such an extent that it began to make the white mech's optics sore. He preferred his dojo compared to this giant treasure house.

Eventually they reached a decorated set of doors where two smartly dressed mechs either side opened it for them. The white mech still couldn't understand why such a thing was needed as he was capable of opening doors by himself. It was clearly an Iaconian thing, one that he did not intend to use. Upon entering the dining room, Drift was greeted with an unusual sight. Before him was a long and very grand looking table, decorated with strange cutlery and, for some strange reason, some decorated embers burning bright in the centre. He also noted that it was a very high table, and either side were, what must have been, chairs. Were they going to eat off that?

Over to the left he spotted both Optimus and Sentinel, talking to each other in low tones. From where he was standing, Drift could sense that they were both in some sort of foul mood, it was possible they were having a disagreement over something he had no business in. When the two Primes noticed their guests, they turned to face them with strange smiles on their faces.

"So glad to have you spend the evening with us," said Sentinel in a welcoming tone. "I am sorry that our father couldn't make it, but you know how he is." The golden Prime ushered Master Axe over but then gave Drift a stern look. "I trust you will behave for us this time, won't you?"

Drift nodded. "I am sorry about what happened in the garden and I promise it will never happen again." He followed up with a bow and didn't look up until he got a response.

"See that you don't," spat Sentinel, clearly bitter about the whole thing.

Optimus stepped over and patted the white mech on the helm. "Now, now Drift. As a friend of mine always says, lads will be lads." That made the white mech feel relieved and he stood back up, puffing out a sigh. Optimus smiled in his strange way. "Now why don't you sit with Rodimus, he's been eager to see you again."

Drift suddenly jilted on the spot upon hearing the request, and slowly peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, sitting at the grand table next to an empty seat, was that brat of a Prime who had caused him so much trouble in such a short time. The young Prime grinned at him, and then waved, ushering him to come over and sit with him. Drift glared at him and look away, staring up at Optimus with a pleading look. Optimus, however, failed to notice and gently nudged the white mech in the direction of his younger brother.

Gritting his denta's in misery, he slowly walked over until he stood before the young Prime, who looked at him with amused optics. He swung his legs from the strange seat he sat upon, and giggled at the white mech, who could only glare at him.

"You're actually quite fun, you know?" laughed Rodimus, sitting up and looking the white mech over. "I do hope we can have some more fun together, you know, when you're not whining."

Hearing this made Drift growl and he folded his arms in a huff. "Whining? I wasn't whining, you little troublemaker! I was trying to explain myself to you, yet you continuously interrupted me every chance I got. I hope that we never have anymore fun together!" Drift had managed to keep his voice low, so as not to alert the older Primes and his sensei.

Rodimus just smirked at him, not taking any notice of Drift's stress. "Aw, don't be like that-...um...er..." The young Prime blushed a little and gave Drift an embarrassed look. "What is your name?" he asked.

Drift rolled his optics, not really wanting to give his name to the spoilt Prime. Yet his sensei had taught him to be polite, and he did come from a country where politeness was their language. He asked nicely at least. "My name is Drift," he responded, bowing as he did. Once he was standing up straight again, he noticed the young Prime giving him a curious look.

"Drift? That's a strange name. Where did you get such a name?" queried Rodimus.

"W-what? My carrier gave me that name, who else?" snapped Drift, who couldn't believe someone would ask him such a stupid question. "It may not be as fancy as your name, but at least my name isn't hard to pronounce!" The white mech was clearly offended by such a query. In Crystal City, a name was considered a great gift that one should treasure. Iaconians didn't seem to care about the value of their names.

The young Prime clearly failed to notice his offense as he responded, "Well if it makes it easier for you, you can call me Roddy!" Despite the young Prime saying it with a smile, it didn't make Drift any happier.

Giving up on talking to him, Drift turned to his seat and as he looked at it he then realized that he had no clue how to use it. The white mech had never sat on anything like this before, back home he sat on floor mats and laid on air filled futons. Why did Iaconians sit on such things? He looked over at Rodimus, quickly observing how he sat upon his own chair, before climbing up onto his chair. Rodimus watched, amused as the white mech attempted to mount his seat, the white mech grumbling as he didn't find it all comfortable. He didn't sit like the young Prime was sitting, but knelt upon it, as he would with his floor mats back home.

Rodimus could not help but laugh at the white mech's strange seating habit. "You're doing it all wrong, silly!" he laughed, getting up and walking over to where Drift sat, or rather, knelt. Drift flinched when he felt Rodimus pull him, the young Prime smiling as he pulled the white mech off the chair. "You sit with your butt on this part!" he explained, pushing Drift back onto seat, this time rear first.

"Rodimus! What have I said about language like that?" snapped Optimus, looking over at Rodimus, with a strict expression covering his once calm face.

The young Prime flinched this time, looking over at Optimus with a broken smile. "Sorry," he responded, "I can't help it."

Optimus folded his arms and looked at him, unimpressed and clearly upset with his younger brother's speaking habits. "Do you want me to have Ultra Magnus teach you about how to use proper etiquette again? I believe your sessions with him lasted two orbital cycles. Two long orbital cycles, if I recall," he stated in what sounded like a threatening tone. Rodimus responded by jumping back into his seat and sat perfectly still. Optimus smirked before returning to his conversation with Master Axe and Sentinel.

Drift could not help but laugh at how easy it was to get the young Prime to sit down and keep quiet. Perhaps he should go to Optimus and ask for some advice, it would defiantly help him. Rodimus glared over at Drift and stuck his glossa out at him. Drift just turned his olfaction sensor up at him. The two young mechs now acting like sparklings, despite that they told themselves how mature they were.

It didn't take long before the three elder mechs came to sit with them at long last, the three of them still talking about a subject the two younger mechs had no interest in.

"You will enjoy this Master Axe, we had the chef prepare your favourite meal," explained Optimus, sitting down opposite his younger brother. "I'm certain Drift will enjoy it too, they did use a Crystal City recipe with a twist apparently." The red Prime was quite eager to please his guests.

Master Axe smiled in gratitude, sitting across from his young student, who was quite curious what the chef prepared. "I'm certain Drift will enjoy it, he has always been eager to sample foreign cuisine." The black mech looked over at Drift, whose cheeks flushed a little. It was true though, he had wanted to try something made from Iaconian chefs. Though judging by the rich smell, which wafted in from somewhere, he was starting to grow concerned with what was to come. He didn't like food over cooked.

Sentinel Prime sat at the head of the table, looking magnificent as always, yet intimidating at the same time. "It is a shame our father couldn't make it, but you know how it is. I am certain he will meet with you later," explained the elder Prime.

"You seem happy to be in his seat though," mumbled Rodimus, earning a glare from his eldest brother. Drift guessed that the head of the table was usually reserved for Nominus Prime, but since he wasn't around Sentinel occupied the decorated chair at the head of the table.

Drift could not help but marvel at Sentinel Prime some more, flinching again when a dish was suddenly place before him. Looking around he was surprised to see more of these 'servants' had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and were placing dishes down before them. The others didn't seem to notice, acting as if the whole thing wasn't happening and continued talking with each other. Looking down he found that he was staring into a bowl, filled with a sweet smelling broth made from energon-vegetation. He assumed that the chef had attempted to re-create a broth that was popular in his homeland, but Drift was certain that there was no such dish that smelt so sweet.

Wanting to sample it, Drift placed his hands around the bowl and carefully picked it up, bringing it up close to his lips. Before he could even sip some he heard a loud "psst" coming from his right. Looking over, Rodimus was shaking his head at him and waving a strange tool in his hand. Drift blinked, confused at the strange gesture and the weird tool in the young Prime's hand. Looking around the table he noticed that no one was holding the bowl in their hands, but were holding the weird tool to scoop up mouthfuls of the broth, sipping from it and the repeating the whole thing over again.

What was the point of using such a tool when simply holding the bowl in one's hands was so much easier? Did Iaconians like to make simple things, such as eating, complicated than they already were? Drift merely glared at Rodimus, ignoring his silent advice, and continued consuming the broth his own way. The young Prime was surprised to see how the white mech was consuming his broth and no one else noticed yet. From the corner of his optics, Drift noticed that Rodimus had placed the strange tool down and was picking up his bowl. He brought it to his lips and began to drink from it, copying Drift without fear.

The young Prime had swallowed a few mouthfuls before removing the bowl from his lips and turned to smirk at Drift. The white mech paused his eating and glared at Rodimus.

"Is this all a game to him?" he pondered. Whatever it was he didn't like it. Something deep within him was making him...competitive.

Drift just sneered at him and continued to eat his meal in his own way. Rodimus immediately copied him again, consuming his broth as fast as he could. Drift could hear his fast pace gulps, thus he began to pick up the pace. He wasn't sure why but he didn't want to finish last. He didn't want the young Prime to finish his meal before him. They began to slurp and gulp loudly, the pair of them drinking their broths as fast as they could. Drift didn't want to lose; he couldn't lose, not to this spoilt Prime.

"Rodimus, Drift! Cease this behaviour at once!"

The two young mechs almost dropped their bowls at the sound of the loud and angry voice. Their lips were soaked in broth, some of which was dribbling down their chins. Their optics were wide open and their bodies were very still as they stared at a very angry Optimus Prime. The red Prime stood at full height and glared at the two young mechs, mostly glaring at Rodimus though. Sentinel Prime was looking at them with a disapproving look whilst Master Axe was holding back a chuckle. Both Rodimus and Drift placed their now empty bowls down simultaneously, their optics still locked on Optimus.

Optimus shook his head in a disproving manner. Though he had acted nice and easy going before, it was clear that he was strict with his younger brother's upbringing. "Rodimus, you know very well that this sort of behaviour is not allowed when dining, especially with guests. If you do it again, you can forget about the rust-berry cake!" The red Prime then looked at Drift. "Drift, I understand you're new to our culture, but please don't provoke him." The two young mechs nodded and Optimus sat back down.

Master Axe leaned over towards the red Prime. "I should have told him about your dining style but I thought it would be fun for him if he figured it out on his own," he explained.

"That doesn't excuse his behaviour," stated Sentinel, placing his spoon down. "I thought mechs his age, from your land, were mature?"

Master Axe merely shrugged. "Lads will be lads."

Drift frowned after causing yet another embarrassing scene before the Primes. He didn't even get to properly taste the broth, he had consumed it so fast that his glossa didn't register the flavour. Why the frag did he get so competitive over broth? Why? What made him do something so immature? He glared at Rodimus, who glared back, wiping his lips with a cloth.

"He got me again!" thought Drift furiously. "I cannot allow myself to fall for it again!"

Their bowls were taken from them and in their place was a new meal. Drift wiped his lips clean, looking down at the dish he was terribly confused with what he saw. It looked like a Cylmon, but it was cooked, much to his surprise, and it wasn't even sliced up on energon-rice. Surrounding the cooked cyberfish were strange energon-plants and what looked like mashed up oil-spuds, smothered in a thick grease sauce. Was this what they ate?

Wanting to impress the Primes, and make up for his behaviour, he looked for the tools needed to eat the meal. Before him, on either side of the dish, was what looked like a short blade, and another that looked like a small trident.

Drift looked at them, not even sure how to use them. "Are these weapons or eating utensils?" he pondered. He looked up and observed how Master Axe was using his, the black mech clearly holding the knowledge on how to use them correctly. Picking them up he desperately tried to copy him but holding the tools in each hand was proving difficult.

"I can show you, if you like?" asked Rodimus, the young Prime offering his aid all of a sudden.

At first Drift was tempted to receive some help, but something inside told him to refuse the young Prime. Something inside him made the white mech stubborn all of a sudden. "I can figure it out," he declared, trying to fasten his hold on the small trident and knife.

Rodimus pouted. "You're holding them in the wrong hands," he pointed out.

Drift ignored him and tried to cut the cylmon, but it kept slipping about on the plate. His dish wobbled about as he tried to eat as the others were eating around him. Rodimus was giggling at him, amused that he couldn't use the tools provided for him. "You have to stab it with the fork to hold it in place," he explained, but Drift ignored his advice yet again.

Giving up, Drift let out a loud frustrated sigh and suddenly twisted the tools around, placing them in a single hand and holding them as he would with his hashi back in Crystal City. He then picked up the cylmon, twisting the tools until the cyberfish tore and then proceeded to eat the broken piece.

"WOAH!" Drift almost dropped his hashi-turned-tools and looked over at Rodimus, whom now bore an expression full of wonder. "How did you do that? How did you pick it up like that? And only using one hand? That's amazing!" The young Prime was clearly impressed with the white mech's eating skills, though Drift was just confused.

The other mechs noticed, their quiet conversation once again interrupted by the youthful banter. Sentinel rolled his optics, sighing angrily and proceeded to drink from his goblet. He was clearly annoyed and expressed that he wished the young ones would leave them be. Optimus glared at Rodimus, not pleased with how the younger Prime suddenly raised his voice at the table, and Master Axe seemed amused with how Drift was using his eating utensils.

"That is how we eat back in Crystal City Rodimus Prime, and it would seem that Drift prefers to eat in that fashion," explained Master Axe, hoping that it would calm the young Prime down. Sadly, it did not.

Rodimus immediately attempted to copy Drift, twisting his tools around and hold them both in a single hand. Optimus didn't seem impressed. "Rodimus, you can learn later, but for now would you please hold them correctly," he demanded. Rodimus ignored him and played around with the tools, trying to hold them the way Drift was holding them. He was determined to get it right, growling when they kept slipping from his grip.

Drift watched with anticipation, wondering if the Rodimus could pull it off. He smirked a little as the young Prime managed to grip his cylmon with a clumsy hold, but unlike Drift who tore his up, Rodimus was trying to pick up the whole thing. This was unwise, but before Drift could even warn him, the cylmon fell from Rodimus' inexperienced grip, splattering against the rich grease on his plate. Upon impact, the grease suddenly exploded and it splattered against anything near it, including Rodimus. Not just Rodimus, but the young Prime managed to get Sentinel's face covered in some, the elder Prime suddenly stunned.

The room went silent as the orange Prime registered the fact that his little brother had stained his proud face with grease.

Nothing happened at first, until Sentinel began to growl and he rose from where he sat. Rodimus, not wanting to suffer the wrath of his elder brother, suddenly jumped up and fled the dining room, Optimus screaming after him, "Rodimus, go straight to your room! We'll discuss this later!" Drift watched him go, surprised with how fast the young Prime ran.

Sentinel cursed and grumbled as he wiped his face clean, whilst Optimus apologized to Master Axe. "He's usually well behaved; I do hope we haven't upset you?" Master Axe shook his head with a smile. Sentinel hissed at his brother, "Upset him? I am the one this offense has affected, not him!" Optimus glared at Sentinel briefly, before looking over at Drift. He didn't say anything but the white mech could only assume that Optimus was disappointed in him.

Drift cursed himself. He had to make this right, for it was, in some sense, his fault that Rodimus dirtied his brother's face.

"I'll go after him," he suggested, excusing himself from the table.

The three mechs looked at him with surprised expressions, not expecting this sudden suggestion from the white mech. Sentinel was about to say something, but Master Axe stopped him. "Let him go, he merely wishes to see if young Rodimus is alright." Sentinel didn't look at all pleased, but said nothing. He was fuming, much to Drift's concern.

Drift bowed and gracefully exited the dining room, not wanting to see how angry Sentinel could get.


	6. Chapter 6

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - stealing and hand-to-mouth feeding

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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Drift at last found a use for one of his skills, one that he learnt when he was in the middle of the wilderness, and set out to track down Rodimus, knowing that he couldn't have gotten far. The young mech scurried down the hallways of the palace with silent footsteps, staying alert with his senses heightened, certain that he was following the route that Rodimus had taken to escape the wrath of his elder brothers. Thankfully no one was around to bother him and within moments he finally located the young Prime, leaning against a wall in an attempt to catch his breath.

Walking over to him with the intent to apologize, until Rodimus spotted him and suddenly stood up, placing his hands upon his hips and pouting. "Look what you did and made me do," he suddenly blurted out, stunning poor Drift.

"M-me?" stuttered the white mech, "You were the one who was trying to copy me."

Rodimus made a "hmfth" sound and continued glaring at Drift. "You did that so I would copy you, you crafty fragger!"

"I did that because that's how I eat," snapped Drift, refusing to take any blame for what Rodimus had done. "It's not my fault you Iaconians eat in strange way."

Rodimus ignored him, acting as if he were the innocent party. He then sighed and folded his arms, a disappointed look upon his face. "I was looking forward to that rust-berry cake. It's my favourite dessert and the chefs rarely make it," he complained, pacing back and forth.

Drift rolled his optics, not even bothering to point out that Rodimus had intentionally changed the topic. He was also in shock, how could one still be hungry after consuming that broth and then that complicated cylmon meal? The white mech could only assume that Iaconians had very big digestive systems to be able to handle all of that.

"Alright then," blurted Rodimus all of a sudden, "We're going to steal that dessert!"

"W-what?"

"You heard me, silly. We are going to steal that dessert! I refuse to go to bed without sampling some."

"Are... are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I want that cake. You can have some I suppose, since you are doing the dirty work."

"ME? B-but you're a Prime! Can't you just demand it?"

"No, my brother would have already ordered the chef not to give me any. He's always one step ahead of me."

"I... I'm not stealing anything!"

Drift was firm about this, despite that he was being asked by a Prime, one of holy blood. He was a student, undergoing training for the Circle, not some thief out to steal cakes for a spoilt brat. Who did he think he was? Even though he was asked, no, more like ordered to steal a cake of some sorts, he would not partake in this pointless task, even if was coming from a Prime. Rodimus, however, seemed to ignore his protests and simply grabbed him by the arm and led him away, possibly to where the kitchens were. Drift tried to shake his arm free but every time he did, Rodimus would tug and pull him along.

Eventually Drift gave up, but for reasons unknown, even to him. One part of him was not happy with what was going on. He didn't want to steal a cake, he didn't want to have a share of the cake, and he didn't want to be ordered about by this Prime. It conflicted with the other part, the part that was growing curious, and the excitement that was building up within him. A childish wonder began to expose itself within him and he secretly wanted to partake in this little escapade... despite doing it with a Prime, who was getting on his nerves.

It didn't take them long to reach the kitchens, and Drift had to cover his olfaction sensor from the rich smells wafting through the air, like a foul smelling cloud that hovered over them. Rodimus didn't register it and he peered through a large door, releasing Drift as he did so. The white mech thought he could, at last, get away from the spoilt Prime, but that new side of him that was still growing, was telling him to stay and see it through.

Rodimus looked over at him and gestured him over. "Look, they're right there!" he exclaimed, a hint of excitement in his voice. Drift sighed and walked over, peering through the open door, over Rodimus' shoulder.

The kitchen was very busy, and quite large compared to what Drift was used to, filled with mechs and femmes rushing about carrying strange tools, large pots and the weirdest food that the white mech had ever seen. A short mech was barking orders, telling his underlings what dish went where and who had to prepare what. Like obedient soldiers, they followed his orders to the last letter, making certain that their preparations were beyond perfect.

He felt a nudge in his abdomen, and he glared down at Rodimus, who pointed towards a small worktop that was a few feet away. On top of the worktop were two dishes, and upon the dishes were a strange looking sweet. It was shaped like a triangle, white top and a rusty-red bottom that merged together in the middle, topped with fresh rust-berries and a thick sauce. It was actually making the white mech hungry, and he soon found he was in the mood to try some, though he refused to tell Rodimus that.

"OK, I have a plan," explained the young Prime, "You go in there, undetected, and grab the cakes before anyone sees you!"

Drift was certain that his jaw had dropped to the floor after hearing that pathetic plan. "That's your plan? For me to go in there, and to steal your treat?" The white mech was not at all impressed, for he had been expecting something a bit more elaborate.

"I didn't say it was a perfect plan," pointed out Rodimus, who was honest enough to admit when one of his plans did sound terrible. "Don't worry; those chefs won't see you, if you are as stealthy as you say."

Drift frowned. "Is that a challenge?" he asked in an angered tone.

Rodimus merely looked up at him with a smirk. "Go on then, impress me. I might apologize if you do."

The white mech sighed, and carefully stepped over the young Prime, and into the kitchen. That weird part of him was acting up again, and though he didn't fully understand it, he did know that he wanted Rodimus to appreciate his skills and talents. That and he couldn't turn down a challenge even if he wanted to. He wanted the young Prime to see what he was capable of, and maybe even earn his respect. Heck, he wouldn't even mind getting treated nicely by him, though now that he was inside a very busy kitchen, he could not help but wonder if this was such a good idea. Thankfully his white armour made him near invisible with the exception of his red cloak. Still no one had noticed yet and Drift kept low and crept forward. The worktop wasn't that far, and most of the chefs were busy with their current tasks.

With each step he took, he made certain that he was prepared to either leap up onto one of the cupboards or to roll under a table, in case he got spotted. He also made certain that he was able to perform these, given his current position was right out in the open. He would glance back at Rodimus every now and then, the young Prime giving him a thumbs up, before carrying on with his task. He was getting closer, and he had to duck when a chef paused not too far from him to grab some spices, before dashing off again. Drift sighed with relief for no one had even noticed him. When he at long last reached the worktop, he peered over, making certain that all the chefs were preoccupied before picking up the plates, the sweet smell of the sweet treat making his oral cavity fluids flow. He had to hold each in both hands, for they were too big to be held just by one hand, but he was certain he wouldn't drop them.

Turning round, he began to make his way back to the kitchen entrance, Rodimus waiting there for him. The young Prime was grinning with glee as Drift slowly made his way back with the cakes. Drift, oddly enough, felt some pride glowing within him, much to his shock. He just stole some cakes from a kitchen within the palace of the Primes, why was he feeling do proud of this?

Looking at Rodimus, he found that his face was turning red as the young Prime looked at him, with joy and admiration. For someone who was bossy and rude, he had to admit that he was alright... and a terribly pretty.

Once he reached the door, Rodimus stepped back, allowing the white mech to exit the kitchen. Outside, Drift leaned against a wall and sighed with relief, pleased that no one spotted him stealing the cakes. Despite his skill, he actually thought he was going to get caught. Rodimus was jumping up and down on the spot. "That was amazing, Drift! You stole them, right under their olfaction sensors. Not even I could do that, they always spotted me the moment I walked in."

Drift let out an exhausted laugh. "Well your armour is really bright, you know? Kind of a giveaway."

Rodimus pouted again but said nothing. His optics were focused on the cakes in Drift's hands.

"Alright, now we need to find a place to-..."

Before Rodimus could finish his sentence, a loud angry voice erupted from the kitchen, screaming, "WHERE THE FRAG HAVE THOSE CAKES GONE!?"

Rodimus flinched, his face filled with panic, and suddenly bolted past Drift. Drift stood straight up and look towards the kitchen, his spark pulsing fast as he listened to the angry voices coming from within. He was having trouble deciding if he should run with Rodimus, or return the desserts to the chefs. The young Prime suddenly skidded to a halt, turned round and ran back to Drift, grabbing him by the cloak, and forcefully pulling him along. Drift was caught off guard, the sudden pull causing him to drop one of the plates.

Half stumbling backwards, half skipping backwards, Drift forced himself to turn around, both hands clasping the one dish that hadn't fallen from his hands, and proceeded to flee with Rodimus beside him, getting away just in time, before the chefs could locate them.

The two young mechs fled, Rodimus guiding Drift down some hallways, up some stairs, over a walkway, and out into a small courtyard filled with tall glowing topaz bushes and quartz trees. They scrambled behind a large set of trees, the pair of them collapsing to the ground, and heaved in large amounts of air to keep their heated bodies cool. Coolant dribbled down their faces, developed from both the panic and the running it took to get away. Drift was still holding the one plate he managed to save, though the dessert had crumbled into a mushy mess from all the movement. Rodimus didn't seem to care about the state of the dessert, as he took it from Drift's hands, the white mech still trying to process what he had just done.

"I can't believe I did that," he gasped, now realizing that it wasn't such a great idea after all. "Thankfully they didn't see us... or did they? Did they see us?"

He looked over to Rodimus and, much to his annoyance, watched as the young Prime was scooping up blobs of the destroyed cake with his finger, sticking it into his mouth, and savouring each bite. "I thought it went alright," he said in between bites of the stolen treat. "Have you ever tried this? It's even better when it's all mashed up!"

"Are you even listening?" demanded Drift, careful not to raise his voice, in fear someone would hear them. "We just stole something and you're acting like it isn't a big deal!"

Rodimus merely shrugged. "It's just a cake, it's not like we stole the Creation Matrix. If they ever find out we took it, we'd just get a telling off."

"But still, stealing is wrong," explained the white mech, folding his arms and huffing.

"We didn't steal it... we just took back what was rightfully ours," stated Rodimus, completely turning the whole thing around. "Only you dropped yours."

"Only because you pulled me backwards," grumbled Drift, who wasn't too fussed about losing his cake.

"Well I had to, didn't I? You were standing there with no clue what to do," stated Rodimus, licking his finger clean of the dessert.

"By the Blade, you are impossible."

Rodimus laughed and suddenly nudged up against Drift, the white mech cringed from the sudden contact from the young Prime. "I have to admit though, for someone who acts like an old mech, you are pretty cool!"

Drift wasn't sure if that was compliment or an insult. "What do you mean 'old mech'?" he demanded. He answer was yet another laugh.

"I'm just saying you look like you're trying to act like someone three times your age, you know, boring and talks a lot, but then you surprise me and act like a cool young mech, like me!" explained Rodimus, still eating the cake. "That was totally awesome what you did in the kitchen, we have to do that again when they make sour-oil sherbet."

He couldn't be serious? Was that how he was going to spend two stellar cycles of his life, stealing food from a kitchen for this young Prime? Rodimus just grinned and looked over at Drift with a hint of appreciation in his optics. He then said something that made Drift feel strange.

"You're going to be an awesome friend, I know it!"

These words... these simple words made Drift's spark suddenly jump in his chassis and his face turn a bright shade of pink. Rodimus called him a 'friend' with a silly grin plaster on his cake stained face. Not just 'friend' but an 'awesome friend', and it was enough to make the white mech blush. Rodimus wasn't lying either, the white mech could feel the happiness and purity in the words, as if the young Prime took joy in saying them. It was almost as if they were words that Rodimus had been wishing to say for a long time, to say them to a friend that he craved for so long.

Drift never really had the time to make friends, even back at Crystal City. Wing was always acting friendly towards him, but Drift never really called him a friend, he was more like a guardian, who had to keep an optic on him. To hear that this young Prime wanted him as a friend, despite the fight they had, the competitive brawl at the table, and the disrespectful act they had committed together, Drift felt that strange happy feeling swelling up inside of him, until it was about ready to burst. It was enough to bring a small smile to his face.

"I am sorry that you dropped your cake, though," said Rodimus suddenly.

Drift shrugged, "It's fine, I was full any-..."

Before he could finish, Rodimus, without any warning, suddenly shoved a cake covered finger between Drift's lips.

There was a moment of silence between the two young mechs. Drift's optics were wide open, his face full of shock upon realizing that the young Prime's finger was inside his oral cavity. Rodimus smiled innocently up at him, his intention to share his dessert with the white mech was pure, but not thought out. Poor Drift didn't even register the sweet tangy taste of the dessert; he was too horrified at what Rodimus was doing.

"Shame you didn't swipe a spoon whilst you were there, would have helped," laughed Rodimus, pulling his finger away from the loose lips.

Drift said nothing but continued to stare at Rodimus with a full filled with horrified confusion. Rodimus blinked, confused as to why the white mech wasn't saying anything, or even commenting on how sweet the dessert was. Then the white mech began to shake, his face turning bright red, and he sounded like he was about to cry. The young Prime was now fully confused. "W-what's wrong? What did I do?" he asked.

"Y-ou... you...YOU IDIOT!" wailed Drift, burying his face into his knees, his face redder than a rust-berry.

The sudden outburst made Rodimus jump and panic, forcing him to look around to make sure no one heard them, and wondering why in Primus' name would cause Drift to say such a thing. "W-what? What did I do?" he asked, shaking Drift's huddled form, the white mech refusing to face him.

Unfortunately, for Rodimus, he would soon learn that by placing food between the lips of someone else, was something that should only be done between lovers, in Crystal City. The white mech had seen mechs and femmes sharing meals together, in a strange if not sweet gesture of love.

That was the first time anyone had done that to Drift.

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Returning to his room, Drift yawned as he removed his cloak and armour, wishing to retire for the sol. This had been one sol he would not be forgetting for a long time, even if he tried. Hopefully tomorrow would be different, and everything that had happened today would be forgotten. Rodimus had taken him back as far as could go, for he had to return to Optimus in the hopes he wouldn't get told off. He bid Drift a pleasant evening, and expressed his wish to see him again the following sol. The small wish made Drift's spark pulse quite fast.

As he placed his blades next to his berth, there was a knock at the door.

"Drift?" came a voice. It was Master Axe.

"You can enter," he called out, placing his great sword in between his blades.

The door opened and in walked the Drift's sensei, smiling with a tired expression, and obviously wishing to retire to his own berth, but was kind enough to make certain that his young student was comfortable. "I trust you were able to locate young Rodimus?" he asked. Drift responded with a nod. "So what did you two get up to? You never returned to the dining room," he asked.

Drift sighed as he stood up, pulling the quilts off his berth, and placing them on the floor. "He gave me a little... tour," replied Drift.

"Really? Because we were suddenly informed that 'somebody' took 'something' from the kitchens, not too long after you two left." Drift did his best not to react to the news, and allowed Master Axe to continue. "They didn't see who took it, but considering that young Rodimus was forbidden to have, said item, Optimus is fairly certain he knows who the culprit is. The question is... did he have an accomplice?" Drift gulped but kept his cool.

Sadly Drift was easy to read, in the optics of Master Axe. "Don't worry Drift, you won't get in trouble. In fact, I am actually surprised that you, of all mechs, would take part in such a thing."

Drift spun round, his face betraying his attempt to hide the truth. "I-I didn't mean to, sensei. He practically dragged me into it, refusing to take 'no' for an answer He asked me to, he-..."

He was interrupted by Master Axe, who was laughing so much he had to fall back into a chair. The black mech was not used to seeing his student so flustered after getting found out. Then again Drift doing something like this was unheard of. "Do not worry Drift, it was just a dessert. Anyway, they're not even sure if young Rodimus was the culprit. The one who took it was apparently very sneaky." Drift blushed and looked away, his sensei still chuckling away. "I'm actually happy about it," confessed Master Axe.

"How can you be happy about that? Stealing is forbidden within the Circle."

"I wouldn't exactly call that 'stealing' Drift, it was more like reclaiming something. Besides, it was just a cake or two."

The white mech couldn't believe how lenient Master Axe was being about this. If he had stolen something back in Crystal City he would be punished, even Master Axe himself punished him when he stole a treat from his treat box, so why didn't his sensei punish him now? He had stolen something within the palace of the Primes, if that wasn't a crime, he wasn't sure what was. Thankfully his sensei was good at sensing confusion. "Drift, normally I would punish you for taking something...but you did something that even Optimus has had trouble doing."

Drift blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Master Axe smiled and sat up. "You made his brother laugh."

Drift was even more confused. "So I made him laugh, so what? I bet he laughs all the time."

"He hasn't laughed in four stellar cycles." That made Drift look up with alarm. Master Axe just looked back, his smile seemed sad. "He hasn't even smiled properly for nearly two orbital cycles. Optimus has been doing everything he could to make his little brother happy, but everything failed, mainly because his duties are getting in the way. They used to play together but as Optimus got older, Rodimus began to grow lonely, even depressed at times. That was why he asked me to bring someone like you, someone close to his age, someone he could relate to."

The black mech sighed as he stood up, peering out the window to admire the quiet evening "You should have seen how happy Optimus was, when he was taking Rodimus to his room. He was about to tell him off, until he leapt into his arms and thanked him over and over. He wouldn't stop talking about you, telling his older brother how much fun you were. I've never seen a bigger smile than his and even Optimus' smile was pleasant for a change. He asked if you were intending to stay...he did seem upset when I explained you hadn't decided yet. Optimus had to reassure him that he believed you would stay." Master Axe looked over at Drift, the young mech with a troubled look on his face.

"There are some things that makes one great, Drift. Some save those who are in danger. Some slay wicked monsters who threaten the land. Some cure the sick from all sickness and disease." He looked over at Drift, a strange look deep look in his optics. "And some bring light to those who live in darkness."

These words stayed in Drift's mind as his sensei excused himself. Was he truly making Rodimus happy? He had assumed Rodimus was always like this, even before he met him. Had he been sad and lonely this whole time, longing for a friend he could never have. Did he bring him light into his dark life? Drift couldn't even picture Rodimus being sad. He couldn't even picture him crying. When Drift first met him, he was full of life and eager, but he remembered when he first saw him, he could sense what was within him. The pain, the anger, the bitter sadness. Was he truly the light that the young Prime longed for? Could he make that smile stay forever?

"Sensei!"

Master Axe looked over his shoulder, the white mech standing up, with a determined look on his face.

"I... I will stay."

His sensei smiled a rare smile. He gave the young mech an approving nod, please with what he heard.

"Goodnight Drift, I will see you in the morning."


	7. Chapter 7

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - sword swinging

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Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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With the morning light shining through the windows of the palace, lighting up the hallways with pure natural light, Ultra Magnus strode through them, with a sense of strict might and prowess, enough to make one step back in awe. His cloak was practicably flowing out from behind him, due to his fast but controlled pace, one that many had difficulty keeping up with. Ultra Magnus was the image of order within the palace, despite being the second in command to the Autobot Knights, many found him fit enough to be considered a ruling Prime. Of course, those who thought that kept it to themselves. Walking in tow behind him followed another mech, shorter than him, but also displayed an aura of strictness about him, yet with him; he also carried an aura of bitter cold. Maids and servants bowed as they walked past, showing their respect for them, as they continued with their morning work of preparing the palace for another sol. Ultra Magnus ignored them, not fond of the praise he received from them, and wanting to get this task over and done with. He wasn't in the best of moods this morning.

Last night, he received a request from Optimus Prime, asking him if he could arrange someone to give the young Crystal City mech a proper tour of the palace, now that he had decided to stay. Of course he knew getting the full tour would take at least a couple of sols, or more, he asked him to only show him the places that would interest him, and the places he might needed to know about, like the healing chambers. Ultra Magnus wasn't too pleased when he received the order. It wasn't that he minded getting the request; it was realizing that he was going to have to put up with Drift, and he was clearly a pain he would have to deal with.

Approaching the room, where Drift would be staying for the next two stellar cycles, there was a loud shriek from within, followed by the sound of something fragile smashing. Before Ultra Magnus, and the mech with him, could even unsheathe their blades and investigate, a maid came bursting through the room's door, running around like a mad femme, before running over to Ultra Magnus and clasping her arms around him. She screamed, and wailed, clearly scared of whatever scared her.

"Oh Sir Ultra Magnus, that young mech is insane! I walked in with his breakfast, and he was waving his sword like a mad mech, he almost cut me into pieces!" she wailed, burying her face into the strict mech's chassis. "I was nearly killed! Do something! Please!"

Ultra Magnus sighed, removing the femme from around him, and calmly pushing her aside. He walked into the room to see that it was complete mess, sheets on the floor, clothing and armour dumped on furniture, and the ruined breakfast that the maid must have dropped. Drift was standing there with blades in his hands, an innocent expression in his face, and, much to Ultra Magnus' anger, a ripped curtain, hanging by mere threads of mesh.

Drift gave Ultra Magnus an odd look. "If she hadn't walked in on me, I wouldn't have sliced the hanging mesh," he explained.

That didn't make Ultra Magnus feel any better, and he marched over, banging a fist on top of Drift's helm. "If you wish to practise with your blades, then do so in a place that isn't filled with fragile and expensive items!" he snapped.

"But I have to swing all of my blades, one thousand times, each new sol!" explained Drift, "it's a requirement; even Master Axe says I have to." Ultra Magnus rolled his optics and let out a frustrated sigh. "I am aware of that, but at least Master Axe practices outside!" He then took the blades from Drift's hands, the white mech gasping in protest. "You can get these back once this room is tidy. I also recommend that you swing your blades in the training grounds, not in the suite!" Ultra Magnus was firm, but even he knew that taking the blades from a Crystal City mech, was disrespectful, no matter how old they were.

The white mech growled, but complied. It was his fault that the room was in a state, and he was a guest, so he should clean up after himself. He was planning to, after he finished his one hundred slashes, but there was no point in arguing with the rude mech. Still, he believed that the maid should have cleaned up the mess she made, it wasn't his fault she was jumpy. That and to walk around without his blades was the equivalent of walking around naked, so if he wanted them back, he would have to clean up. So he picked up the sheets, picked up the ruined breakfast, and removed his hanging clothing from sight, all the while Ultra Magnus explained what was going to happen today.

"Master Axe is unable to see you this morning, as the senate gathered early and his presence was required. This morning, Rodimus Prime will be attending his studies, and then he will be engaged in his training, thus he will not see you until after lunch, where you two can engage in some... some... oh, what is that word?"

"I believe you are referring to the word 'fun', Ultra Magnus," suggested the new mech.

"Ah yes, that's the one. So for this morning, Prowl here," he gestured towards the new mech, who had entered the room along with him, "Will be giving you a quick tour of where and where you cannot go."

Drift looked up at the new mech. He quickly noticed that he had a similar personality to the rude mech, for he could sense his cold and bitter nature. He also seemed incredibly complicated, that even Drift was having a hard time reading him. The way he stared at him was unsettling too, for the white mech was starting to get the chills just from his stares. This Prowl was rather handsome though, cold but handsome, not that Drift found him attractive. His black and white armour was polished so well, that Drift could see his own reflection, even at a distance. The cloak wrapped round his throat and hanging down his back was a beautiful shade of dark red, like the chevron upon his helm. He was holding a data-pad and a stylus in one hand, possibly for taking notes. He defiantly was a mech who knew how to impress and display authority.

"Prowl here, is the Captain of the Autobot Knights, so I expect you to treat him with the same respect you show for the Primes," explained Ultra Magnus. He then looked over to Prowl, "Prowl, if he does give you trouble, throw him off the highest tower you can find."

The white mech had hoped that was a joke, but not even Prowl was laughing. Then again, given that this new mech seemed to lack any sense of humour, it wasn't that surprising. Hopefully it was just a warning.

Ultra Magnus then handed Prowl the blades, "Don't return them until this room is clean," he ordered, before leaving.

Once the rude mech was gone, Drift looked up at Prowl, the cold mech looking down at him.

"Please hurry up, for I have far more important things to do then keep an optic on some sparkling," he said, his voice as cold as his looks.

The white mech hissed at him, "I'm not a sparkling!" he snapped, not going to put up with another rude mech.

Prowl just looked at him with cold optics. "Anything below the age of six vorns is a sparkling in Iaconian. Deal with it."

Drift could only growl at him as he quickened his pace, knowing that this was not going to be a good sol. That was all he needed, to get a tour with someone who was ruder than Ultra Magnus, someone he thought couldn't exist as he continued to clean up the mess he had made, and he began to wonder what Rodimus was up to. Apparently, he was engaged in studies this morning and would partake in training later on. It made him wonder, what did a Prime study? What kind of training was he taking? His face blushed again when he recalled what transpired last night, when Rodimus shoved a cake covered finger between his lips. He could not help but trace his lips as he recalled the memory that made him feel strange.

As he carried the tray of the ruined breakfast, he suddenly heard the sound of running feet, echoing down the hall outside. Before he could even turn to see where it was coming from, someone suddenly pounced on his back, the action causing Drift to drop the tray. The white mech cried out in shock, as arms tightened round his chassis, his body stiffening up.

Then an all too familiar voice rang in his audios. "Morning Drift! How are you this sol? Did you like your breakfast? Want to train with me later?"

Drift sighed when he realized that Rodimus had decided to come to wish him a good morning, and bombard him with ridiculous questions. Prowl, however, wasn't amused. "Rodimus Prime, this isn't the kind of behaviour you should be exercising in. You are a Prime and you must act like one, not continue to fool around like a sparkling. Now, unhand our guest."

Rodimus sighed, clearly not liking Prowl either, and let go of the white mech, stepping back and allowing Drift to relax. Turning round and glaring at the young Prime, the white mech huffed and folded his arms. Rodimus merely stood back and smiled at him, bopping up and down with the tips of his pedes. He was clearly excited about something.

"So how are you? Do you want to do something later? I'm free in the afternoon, after my studies and training, unless you would like to train with me? I always wanted to see how mechs of the Circle fight."

With all the questions getting thrown at him, no one could blame Drift for releasing a loud frustrated groan. "Would you please give me a chance to answer, Dammit!" he snapped.

Then, without warning, Prowl suddenly slapped Drift over the helm with his data-pad, not too hard, but hard enough to let him know that he did something that he shouldn't have. "Do not speak to a Prime with that tone," he snarled, forcing his authority onto the young mech.

Drift groaned, rubbing his helm and glaring at Rodimus, who just smirked at him. "Don't worry about Prowl, he's always like that. If fact you're lucky he's the one giving you a tour, he's very informative," explained the young Prime, "But he does tend to drone on a bit."

"I'm right here, my Lord," stated Prowl in a very cold voice.

Rodimus just laughed, whilst Drift sighed wearily, wishing he could get his blades back, and slash at the air, or even a post, anything at all would do. It was far too early for this, far too early for the antics of the young Prime.

"So can you show me your techniques, later?" asked Rodimus, still grinning. "Optimus has always told me that those from the Circle have amazing swordmech skills, some that not even he could do. We have to practice together someday? Alright?"

Drift sighed, "I am looking forward to it, my Lord and-"

"Don't call me that!" snapped Rodimus, suddenly. "I told you, you can call me Roddy! I hate getting called that, so please just call me Roddy."

Drift's cheeks flushed red when he felt Rodimus suddenly grab his hands, pulling them up and clutching them tight. He wasn't used to someone holding his hands like this, and for a moment he didn't know what to say. It also reminded him of last night, when Rodimus pushed a cake covered finger into his mouth, a small act that only lovers could do. The whole thing made the white mech blush, steam rising from his frame. He also wasn't sure if he could just call the young Prime by a ridiculous short version of his name. Prowl was giving him a funny look, clearly not impressed with what Rodimus had suggested. Drift started to worry if he would cause offense by calling the young Prime 'Roddy' and the last thing he wanted was to get told off for it.

"Can I just call you Rodimus?" he asked, not wanting to cause trouble.

Rodimus pouted, but gave in quickly. "Fine, but call me 'my Lord' again and I'll start calling you... um... Driftaboo!"

The white mech felt his jaw drop upon hearing his possible future nickname, one that sounded incredible ridiculous, and he was certain that it was insulting in the Iaconian language. Rodimus just giggled and patted Drift on the helm, seemly enjoying it when he tortured him with childish threats. "I'm only kidding Drift, Primus; I would never call anyone that, it's too hard."

"Well if you ever do call me Driftaboo, I'll never help you-" he paused, looking over at Prowl, making certain that he wasn't listening in, "-I'll never help you reclaiming dessert ever again."

That made the young Prime laugh. "Threatening me are you? That's a first, but I have better things in mind than stealing cakes." Hearing that made Drift worry, and the sudden thought of Rodimus ordering him to steal the Creation Matrix popped into his head. What a scandal that would cause.

"Rodimus Prime, aren't you running late for your morning studies?" asked Prowl in a suggestive tone.

Rodimus sighed loudly, rolling his optics, and glaring at Prowl out of the corner of his optics. It was Drift's turn to giggle, amused to see how Rodimus hated being ordered about. The young Prime looked back at Drift and waved, "Guess I'll see you later then," he sighed. "I won't mind you missing out on my training, but in the future we definitely have to practice together, and besides, I have a lot planned this afternoon!"

"I can hardly wait," sighed Drift, folding his arms, fearing what this afternoon would bring.

The young Prime smiled, and gave Drift one final nudge before running off. "See you Drift. Bye Prowler," he cried as he fled the room.

Prowl suddenly growled, "It's Prowl!" he cried out, apparently not liking the nickname he already received from the young Prime.

Drift smirked, trying to hold in his laughter. Prowl glared at him, folding his arms in a huff.

"Hurry up and clean up your damn mess," he spat.


	8. Chapter 8

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - boring history lesson

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

Although he was happy that he got his blades back, and pleased that his room was once again tidy, Drift was starting to see what Rodimus meant by 'drone on' when it came to this cold mech, and he wished he was practicing in his room again. This Prowl certainly had an 'interesting' if not 'boring' way of describing things to him. His tour was so descriptive, that Drift had a hard time trying to remember it all. So far he started off showing him the places he wasn't allowed to enter, such as the west side of the palace, the Creation Matrix tower, the royal chambers, and many other places that Prowl never named, but explained that they were none of his business.

They then proceeded to see the places that Drift was allowed to visit, but was warned that if he did something upsetting, he would be banned from whichever area he caused the offense in. Their first stop was the recovery chambers, a place where sick, injured or poorly mechs would go to get healed. The recovery chambers had a whole giant tower to itself, somewhere on the eastern-central part of the palace, with walkways and hallways branching off from it. The cold mech explained it was designed like that, so the healer or medic could rush off to where ever they were summoned, no matter where it was. Prowl explained that the palace had many healers, or medics, at hand, but the Primes had one exclusive to them, who also happened to be the head healer in the whole palace.

"He's a hard one to deal with, and one that you dare not upset," explained Prowl, walking through the white tower with Drift in tow, "At the moment, he will be the one you go to if you injure yourself." Drift growled quietly at that sentence, thinking that the cold mech assumed that he could easily hurt himself.

A loud and sudden shout made the two mechs look in the direction of an open door, where two small suddenly ran out and past them. Following them was a tall, white and red mesh cloaked mech, with armour decorated here and there, on his tall build. He was mad as one could be, waving around, what looked like, a medical tool of sorts. It was enough to make Drift reach for his blades, but he didn't unsheathe them, yet. The white armoured and robed mech, growled after the two mechs that fled, and then glared at the two mechs standing before him.

Prowl just sighed, and opened up his data pad. "What did they do this time, Ratchet?" he asked, as if this was a question asked on a daily basis.

The one, named Ratchet, just sneered at the Captain. "They existed, that's what they did," he snapped, tossing his tool over his shoulder, a loud clanging sound indicating it fell on the floor. "What do you want? And who is this?" he demanded, gesturing at Drift, who now removed his hands from his blade.

"This is the one Optimus Prime had brought in, to act as a companion for Rodimus Prime," explained Prowl, writing away at something, on his data pad. "His name is Drift, he is from Crystal City, and is under training to become a member of the Circle. He's also a trouble maker, and one you should keep an optic on."

Drift growled quietly at Prowl, but said nothing, for there was no point. Looking up at Ratchet, who was clearly a healer of some sorts, though that armour made him wonder, what kind of healer he was, Drift could not help but stare at him, fixated on his strange aura. Drift wouldn't call himself an expert on 'reading' mechs, but this one, he found to be hard to understand. He seemed angry yet joyous, tired but ecstatic, bitter yet kind. The white mech found he was incredible complicated, knowing that the only way to understand him was to observe him more... though he found he did not wish to.

Ratchet looked down at him, not showing any interest or concern. "As long as he stays out of my personal chambers, then I don't give a slag," he spat, turning his back on them, and walking back into the room he came out of, slamming the door behind him.

The white mech wasn't sure if he should be surprised or not, he had seen nearly enough to believe that the palace of Primes was a mad house. The Captain just shrugged it off as he packed his data pad away. "That is Ratchet, the head healer, and the exclusive healer to the Primes. Optimus has asked him to be yours, during your stay. Just don't anger him, or he'll kill you."

Now he was certain that was a warning, Prowl was clearly incapable of telling jokes. Plus that healer had 'murder' imprinted on his worn dapper face, and already the white mech was dreading visiting him. Drift made a mental note to stay out the angry healer's way, or better yet, make certain he wouldn't get injured.

The tour continued, after leaving the recovery chambers, they then proceeded to the barracks and training grounds, which Drift was eager to see. Upon arrival, Drift was impressed. It was like a small village, on the far side of the palace. Barracks, at least five hundred fairly sized huts, for the knights to rest in, armouries where weapons and armour were stored, weapon smiths where they were made, and open areas for combat training; it even had pens to keep the beasts in. Already he could see knights, either training, resting from training, or attending their weapons and armour, and all of them were... bulky. The white mech knew that Iaconians preferred heavy armour, but to him, they all looked ridiculous. How could they moved about in those things?

"This is where the Autobot knights train, live, hone their skills, and learn the skills of the trade," explained Prowl, "These are known as the Autobot barracks, where Optimus Prime has permitted you to train. There is also the Wreckers barracks on the other side of the palace, the Prime Guard barracks that are located in the central part and the Elite-"

"Wait!" said Drift, suddenly, "There are more places like this?"

Prowl sighed, not happy he was interrupted but nodded. "There are four in total, four fractions of knights that serve Iaconia, each one dealing with different tasks, missions, and duties. The Autobot Knights, under Optimus Prime's command, deal with foreign issues, helping our allies, and preserving the peace throughout Cybertronia. The Wreckers do, to put it bluntly, the dirty work, and are currently under the command of Sir Kup. The Prime Guards do what the name suggests, and guard the Primes and the palace. The Elite Knights, under Sentinel Prime's command, police Iaconia, and defend it against invaders."

After hearing all that, Drift was impressed, yet concerned. In the Circle, the many members acted as one, all of them dealing with every issue their land dealt with. They acted as a whole, never divided. Iaconia seemed to divide the jobs up between fractions they created within themselves, and Drift wasn't so sure is this was a good idea.

"This isn't even the bulk of them," explained Prowl, "all of them, have many outposts and fortresses throughout Cybertronia, with the exception of the Prime Guards, they stay within Iaconia. There are hundreds and thousands of them, so don't let this small number before you throw you off."

He considered this a small number? There had to be at least three hundred mechs there, all of them training and learning, striving to become great knights and honour their code. If this was a small number to him, he wondered, how many there were in total?

The tour moved again, this time visiting other places, like the grand library filled with countless data pads, all of them containing stories and legends for Drift to read up on. His hopes for late night reading were dashed, after Prowl explained he could only take one data pad once a deca-cycle. They then stopped by the grand hall, where the ruling Prime would make an audience with certain individuals, every now and then. At the moment, it wasn't in use, but Prowl warned him to avoid it when it was in session. Other than that, he was free to admire the artwork inside. The next stop was to grand temple of Primus, which was closed off at the moment; due to some ceremony, but Prowl recommend the white mech to go in, at least once during his stay. There were gardens he could sit in, rooms he could sit in, chambers he could visit, and so many other things he could see. The Palace of the Primes was indeed a place of wonder.

Their last stop for the sol was somewhere called, the grand gallery. Prowl explained that it was where all the crystal paintings of the past Primes, along with their heritage, were captured in beautiful crystal art, and displayed for all to see. Their legacy, in some sense. It was a giant, circular shaped room, which spiralled both upwards and downwards, the crystal paintings spiralling the perimeter of the tall room. Upon entering, Drift was shocked to see that they were standing on some walkway, stretching over, what appeared to be, a bottomless pit of dimly lit blue lights. The Captain told him that the grand gallery stretched all the way down, through the very mountain the palace sat upon. It was rumoured that if you went halfway down, you could neither see top nor bottom. No one ever tried it, out of fear, for some reason.

Prowl said he was only going to show him some recent crystal paintings, and that if he wished to see the rest, he would have to do it in his own time. He then lead the white mech to the first crystal painting, of Vector Prime, the ruling Prime from ages past, with his two sons, Luminus Prime and Chronos Prime. The next one was of Luminus, now the ruling Prime, and his two sons, Dromeda Prime and Tiamat Prime.

They were climbing the staircase, as Prowl talked about the crystal paintings. "As you can see, the Primes bear sons, with specially selected consorts, or noble femmes or mechs. The first born will be the next ruling Prime, and the second would be bonded with a member of a noble family, or someone who has earned the respect of the ruling Prime, whether they are common or wealthy."

Drift took it all in, his desire to understand the Primes helping him focus. "So that must mean the Primes have many relatives?" he asked.

Prowl stopped and looked at Drift, shaking his head. "No, there are only the ones who dwell within the palace."

This made Drift confused, "But surely the second born Prime would start a family, with the noble they bonded with?" he asked.

The Captain sighed, folding his arms, as he explained. "Second born Primes do not sire, or carry with the noble they bond with. Only the first born Prime can produce heirs. The reason the second born bonds with a noble, is so that their house becomes tied with the Primes." The Captain sighed, the metal wings on his back twitching. "Their name, their house, their land, and everything they own, would be considered the property of the Primes. The perk is they get to brag that someone in their house bonded with a Prime. For example; Hone, the owner of a large chain of workshops within Iaconia and Praxis, continues to boast about how his great-great-great-great sire's sibling bonded with Fiamus Prime."

For the young white mech, this was all... very disturbing to hear. "But... but why?" asked Drift, trying to understand what was being said.

"Because having someone from their house bonded to a Prime, is considered a high honour, and besides, if anyone steals, or damages their property, it would be considered a high offense, since it belongs to the Primes. In fact, if someone from another land tried to damage or steal the property, it would be considered an act of war. The house is free to do whatever they want with what was theirs, but a high portion of the profit they make must be given to the Primes. Nobel families would always try to get noticed by the ruling Prime, in the hopes he would choose someone from their house to bond with them. That way, their house would always be remembered for having the blessing of a Prime bonded into their house, and give them certain perks." The Captain sighed again, as he stretched, tired from the tour.

Hearing this made the white mech sick, that he actually needed to look away, his young mind flooded with confusion and disgust. This was a bizarre tradition the Primes had, no... it was a sick one. A ruling Prime would sire two sons, one to take over, and the other to bond with some noble, who would 'earn' him? Were second born Primes just trophies for those with enough shanix, to win? To parade around, like some exotic pet? Primes were the closest thing to a celestial being in this world, they were the descendants of Primus and the old knights of Cybertronia, and they were to be loved and worshiped. To hear that second born Primes were nothing but prizes for the nobles was... disgusting.

"Do our ways trouble you?" asked Prowl, once again using a cold tone.

Drift looked up, unable to hide his anger.

"Surely you must know that the Primes are holy ones, the descendants of Primus and the old knights of Cybertronia," stressed Drift, still unable to understand any of this, "They carry the Creation Matrix, are able to wield the blade of Prima, and have the power that rivals gods, yet your people treat them as trophies, to be displayed before others, and a leash around their throats. You treat them like common prizes, for those with wealth to fight for. For them to boast, to abuse, and to take them for granted? They are Cybertronia's true rulers, not to be used as prizes! Do you not see this?"

With his outburst over, Drift had to vent heavily, his spark hurting him as it pulsed heavily in his chassis. Prowl did nothing, not even raising an optic brow, as he observed the white mech. Did the words he screamed at him, merely bounced off him?

"Finished?" asked the Captain. Drift vented a few more times, calming himself, before answering with a nod. Prowl just sighed and shook his head. "I can understand that someone, such as yourself, would be appalled with how we do things over here; even Master Axe was confused with it, so I will tell you what we told him, and all the others who found this disturbing. You must understand that the Primes have been doing this, since the early days of their reign. It was their way of rewarding the public. It's now considered a tradition... though it has changed over the vorns, the second born is always bonded with someone from either a noble house, or a commoner, who earned the Primes respect. I'm certain that someone else can explain it to you better, so would you please accept this, so we can move on?"

The white mech was still sickened by the idea, that Primes were being used as prizes, but nodded. For now he would put up with it, but he would have to talk to Master Axe about this later. Drift was sickened by this whole thing; he disapproved of this tradition, even if the Primes themselves did it without question. Not even common folk deserved to be 'won' for the right to bond. Prowl took the nod as a 'yes' and then proceeded with the tour, as if nothing had ever happened.

"This here, was the last ruling Prime, Nova Prime, and his two sons, Nominus Prime and Vorcha Prime. Nova Prime vanished during his reign, his youngest son bonded to some Senator's daughter, and his eldest became the ruling Prime."

Looking at the painting, Drift could see the legendary Nova Prime, the Prime who vanished many vorns ago, with no one knowing what happened to him. It was said he went on an expedition, looking for new worlds to expand his empire, and never returned. Nominus, who was still young, had to take over as the ruling Prime. It gave Drift the chance to see what this Nominus Prime was like; a dark blue armoured mech, with brilliant opal optics, that decorated a young stern face. The armour he bore looked like a mix between Crystal City light armour, and Iaconian heavy armour, but it had been crafted well. It looked like it was made for display, not for combat, but Drift could not help but admire it. The young Nominus looked quite a bit like Nova Prime, only he seemed more mature and stood out more, whilst Nova just looked plain compared to him. He could only assume that Nova didn't care much for his appearance, unlike his son. Unfortunately Drift could not 'read' him, since he was looking at an image, not the real thing.

"I would recommend that, if you do wind up meeting the ruling Prime, you won't mention his missing sire," demanded Prowl, "The last thing we want, is for you to cause him some stress."

Drift nodded, understanding that one would be upset over a missing sire. Drift, himself, had memories of his sire, right after his carrier died. He was kind, hardworking, and always smelling sweet, for a Kaonol, but that was all the white mech could remember. After straightening himself out, he took a deep vent, before following the Captain. This wasn't the place to be visiting memory lane.

The final painting needed no introduction, for it displayed the current Primes, who lived within the palace. Judging from how they looked in this painting, it had obviously been painted quite a whole ago, but it still gave Drift an idea what they were all like before. An older looking Nominus Prime, who looked even more mature than his younger version, with his sons, Sentinel Prime, Optimus Prime, and Rodimus Prime. It was beautiful to look at, Sentinel looking god like as always, Optimus displaying his calm composure, and Rodimus looking bored, as he held Optimus' hand. He could not help but smirk, at the two vorn old Rodimus, who looked like he would rather be somewhere else than there.

Prowl stood before it, his expression not changing in the slightest. "I expect you already know who these are, so I won't bothering telling you."

Drift rolled his optics, fully used to the foul nature of the Captain. He used to think Dai Atlas was cold at times, but he had perfect social skills compared to this cold sparked mech.

"These were all painted by an artisan noble, whose house has been crafting these works of art since the Primes first came to be," explained Prowl, who was starting to sound like a tour guide, "One of his ancestors was given the honour to bond with a Prime, many vorns ago. The latest ones, including this one, were painted by the current head of the house, and he will even take commissions, providing you can afford it. He is currently training one his sons in the art of crystal painting, though his attitude could use a little work."

Edging closer to the painting, Drift dared to reach out, touching it gently. It felt smooth against his fingers, and even felt warm for some reason. The colours blending with the crystal perfectly, each small detail captured accurately, and not one mistake or crack in sight. It was truly a masterpiece, possibly worth more than any of the kingdoms could pay, and would forever capture the image of the Primes within it. As Prowl continued to talk about the one, who made these wonderful works of art, Drift could not help but look at the young Rodimus, even tracing his finger over his blue optics. Even as a small child, Rodimus was pretty to look at. He was bored, yes, but there was still a heavenly aura around him, even in the painting. Compared to his two older brothers, Rodimus was just the very definition of a Prime; beautiful and graceful.

It was then that he noticed something.

"Captain Prowl?" he called out, the Captain looking at him, with a blunt expression. "You told me that a ruling Prime has to sire two sons, one to take over, and the other to bond with a noble." Prowl nodded in agreement, allowing the white mech to continue. "So... why does Nominus Prime have three sons?"

Prowl suddenly made a 'ah' sound, his face freezing in place, his grip on his data pad tightening, and his shoulders stiffening. It was almost like smacked him across the face. It was as if Drift had said something that no one wanted to hear. Even though he had only known him for a few cycles, Drift had got the impression that, this Prowl was a desk jockey, a neat freak, and someone who was terrifyingly perfect, down to the last digit. So to see him unable to answer his query, and stand there with a frozen face, made the white mech wonder if he asked something he shouldn't have.

For a while Prowl said nothing, until he coughed and gave the white mech a glare, "None of your business," he stated bluntly and firmly, walking away from the painting, with a quickened pace. "Come along, there is a few more places for you to see. Rodimus Prime should almost be finished with his studies by now."

Drift watched as the Captain walked away back towards the walkway, noticing he seemed to wish to leave in a hurry. Why? Was that question something that should not be asked here? Or maybe he was stumbling onto a possible secret, one that everyone in the palace knew about, but one they did not wish to share with outsiders. Master Axe had told him about that, that within the palace of the Primes, there were many secrets, and all of them were guarded close. He was warned that if he should stumble onto trail of a secret, he should leave it well alone. He should take his sensei's advice, yet his childlike curiosity was making him wonder; what were they hiding? He looked at the painting one last time, gazing at the young Rodimus Prime, before following the Captain.


	9. Chapter 9

Pairings - DriftxRodimus  
Rating for this chapter - K+  
Warnings so far - training and secrets?

\--------

Key  
Stellar cycle - one year  
Sol - day  
Orbital cycle - month  
Vorn - 83 years  
Click - one minute  
Nano-Click - one second  
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

\--------

 

Drift was thankful to be walking in the light of the sol once again, the warm rays and the cool air, making him feel alive and fresh. Though he did enjoy seeing the inside of the palace, he prefered the outdoors, for it made him feel active, and eager to do something. The cold Captain, however, didn't even register it, but it didn't surprise Drift, that someone like him would take something like this for granted. Prowl was now taking him to where Rodimus Prime trained in combat, in an exclusive area of the palace, now that his morning studies were now over.

According to Prowl, all Primes were required to train in a certain field of combat, and were trained to handle many weapons. They would start at a young age, somewhere around three vorns old, before learning how to handle swords, axes, war hammers, bows, and many more. Sentinel was a master at the great sword, able to slice the head off a mecha-hydra with one swing, and Optimus could handle a wide number of weapons, though his favourites were blades and axes, even able to use them together as dual weapons. Rodimus, apparently, had fallen in love with archery, and though he learnt how to handle a number of close range weapons, he didn't find any of them appealing. He was far too engrossed with the bow, and his trainer was desperately trying to get him interested in another weapon.

"You yourself can train here if you wish, though you will need permission from a Prime," explained Prowl, escorting Drift into the exclusive training grounds. "Last time, one of the new Autobot knight recruits tried to train here without permission, and he got an orbital cycle in the mines."

Drift gulped, and decided that in the mornings, he would train in the Autobot barracks, unless Rodimus dragged him into it.

Entering the training grounds, Drift was impressed with the quality and the layout, it was almost like the one he trained in back home, though much more decorative and elegant. It was surrounded by high walls, with ledges and walkways for observers to watch from above. There were small buildings, obviously where the weapons and armour were stored, and an indoor one-on-one training room, decorated with fine silk mesh, and surrounded with beautifully crafted weapons, obviously there for display. It was a place fit for a Prime, and a Prime only. There were even beautifully crafted cages in one corner, filled with beautiful cyber-hawks, and mecha-owls, the fine cyber-aves peering at him, with suspicious optics. It was surprising to learn that, despite the size, it was officially only meant for a handful of Primes.

As he gazed around, admiring the beauty of the training grounds, he heard the sound of something flying through the air, following by a faint 'thunk' sound. Looking over towards the source of the noise, and squinting a bit, he spotted movement beyond the cyber-aves cages. Ignoring Prowl, who was spouting nonsense about who built this place, the white mech crept over, curious to see what was going on. Thankfully the cyber-aves did not shriek at him, but merely observed, as Drift carefully walked past them.

Getting closer to the sounds, he could hear voices, one that sounded very gruff. "Now lad, ye're too impatient when ya release. Ya have ta be quick, but ya also have ta be slow an' careful." Whoever owned that old but powerful voice, gave Drift a strange sense of wonder. He sounded like an old warrior, or something, and Drift was eager to meet him.

The next voice, was one that he recognized, and it sounded annoyed. "I know how to fire an arrow, Kup! I've been firing them since I was four vorns old, now let me-... OW!" The sudden shout of pain was followed by, "Jus' 'cause ye're a Prime, doesn't give ya the privilege ta snap back at me, lad! An' that's Sir Kup ta ya, I've earned the right ta be called that, so ya better damn well call me by it." There was a faint grumbling that followed, "I swear, you're the one thing I wish Optimus didn't pick to help further my education."

Drift could not help but chuckle, finding it very entertaining how Rodimus was being trained in combat. He was also now very keen to meet the one, who was obviously training the young Prime, hoping he could get a few tips on how to handle the young Prime. Creeping past the cyber-aves cages, he carefully peered round, and found he was looking onto an archery target practice course. Looking around, he spotted Rodimus tightening the strings of a bow, whilst an elder mech paced around in circles behind him.

The elder mech, who looked even older than Master Axe, was wearing teal armour, that appeared to have gone through a lot, since it was covered with all those scars and dents, it made the white mech wonder what battles he fought, though it was nicely polished. He was chewing on a cygar, muttering words out of his ancient mouth, and glaring out of his weary optics. Despite looking old, he was someone that Drift did not wish to anger. He could sense an old but powerful spirit within him, surrounded with an aura of pure pride and might. He must have been one great knight back in the day.

The teal armoured mech pulled the cygar out, flexed his jaw, and then placed it back in. "Now let's do a few more, an' we'll call it a sol," he suggested, patting Rodimus on the helm, the young Prime shrugging it off. "Now remember lad, find ya target quickly, but be patient when ya fire. Remember, when ya vent, your aim will shift, so watch ya venting, alright?" Rodimus gave them teal armoured mech a glare, which made him glare back. "An' no givin' me that look when I'm tryin' ta tech ya!" Rodimus sighed as he held the bow in his hand, standing with his legs shoulder width apart, and looking over towards his target.

Drift watched, noticing that the bow Rodimus was using was a beautifully crafted arcane bow, one that matched his armour. He had seen an arcane bow once, when one of the Masters of the Circle returned from a pilgrimage, and he watched as one of the elder students try it out. Unlike other bows that used metal arrows, arcane bows used arrows made from pure energy, that the wielder of the bow had to draw from his own spark, much like the great swords that he was being trained to use. It was a powerful weapon, that could explode upon impact, or even freeze an enemy in their tracks. It was complicated, but from Drift understood, using an arcane bow was something very hard to master, so he was surprised to see that Rodimus could use one.

Watching Rodimus slowly raise the bow and take aim was... beautiful... it was breath taking to look at, but it was also strange. He was unable to look away, and found that his spark was pulsing rather fast, as he stared at that fair sight. So far he had seen Rodimus as a spoilt, impatient, and rude little Prime, one who failed to give one the impression that he was one with holy blood. To see him, holding the powerful arcane bow in his hands, his whole body standing tall and strong, his optics focused and looking dead ahead, whilst giving off a sense of maturity and pride... it was as if he had transformed into a true Prime. No, not just a true Prime... a beautiful and angelic Prime, one that even Primus would envy, one that all the gods would envy. Drift could not look away, and even dared to inch forward.

Rodimus pulled back slowly on the bow string, the arrow of energy forming at his fingers, the string groaning as it began to tighten, until at last the arrow was formed, and ready to fire. It was a glistening gold colour, that gave off a faint hum, but Drift could sense it's power. The teal armoured mech stood well back, observing the young Prime, and not uttering a single word. Rodimus was looking dead ahead at his target, his optics focusing on the small dot he had to hit. There was no small movements, or little flinches, or even a sense of doubt. Rodimus knew what he was doing, and he was doing it in a talented way.

Then without warning, he released, with just a small but controlled movement with his fingers, the arrow of energy flying through the air with a silent whistle, until it penetrated the target, setting off a small discharge of energy as it hit. It happened as quickly as it started, and Drift had to gasp once it was all over, not realizing how excited he was, just to watch an arrow being fired. Rodimus gracefully lowered the bow, continuing to look straight ahead at his target. Once the bow was at his side, he suddenly bore an exhausted expression, and he had to bend over, venting heavily.

The teal armoured mech patted him on the back. "Very good lad, ya fired more arrows t'sol then ya did the other sol. However, ya need more practice, a few of those shots didn't hit dead center."

The young Prime suddenly unleashed a frustrated growl, and glared up at the teal armoured mech. "Give me a break, you old relic. My spark isn't that big yet!" he moaned, grunting as the little outburst earned him another bop on the head.

Drift could not help but smirk, leaning against the cyber-aves cage. The way these two played off each other, was entertaining, and it was like how he and his fellow students acted around their sensei's back home. Rodimus obviously had some respect for him, but was far too stubborn to show it. It was possibly the same fot the teal armoured mech.

He suddenly gasped, however, when someone tapped him on the back, which was then followed by that cold voice, that had been talking to him all morning. "Where have you been? You don't just walk away when I'm talking!" Drift sighed as he looked over his shoulder, finding himself looking up at a angered Prowl, who finally figured out that Drift wasn't listening to him. "I could have you locked away from leaving my side," he hissed.

Before Drift could answer him, he heard a loud laugh coming from where Rodimus was. Turning round, he found that the teal armoured mech was laughing, upon discovering that they had a secret audience, his hands on his hips, and his back leaning back from amusement. Rodimus was trying to smarten himself up, desperately trying to hide the fact that he was tired, that and his face was bright red. He must not like it when others see him in that state.

"Well, look what we have here, lad," laughed the teal armoured mech. "Looks like ya have a secret admirer."

It was Drift's turn to blush, and he tried to explain why he was watching, but it all came out it stutters. Even Rodimus was blushing, smacking the teal armoured mech on the side, and taking a few deep vents, before looking at the white mech, with an angered face. "What do you think you're doing? Spying on me like some... some... pervert!" he snapped.

Drift suddenly found his voice, glaring at Rodimus after being called a 'pervert' once again. "I wasn't spying on you, I was watching," he stated, ignoring the cold stare that was piercing the back of his helm.

"Spying, watching, what's the difference? You were clearly staring at me, with those perverted optics!" he sneered, stamping his pede on the floor, to get his argument across. "I should have known from the start you were sick in the head."

"I-... I wasn't! I was just watching you fire the arcane bow," explained Drift, starting to feel hot again, as Rodimus gave him that questioning look, whilst the teal armoured mech gave him a suggestive stare, "I was fascinated with how one op-... operated such a weapon, and I was impressed with how you hand-... handled it. I wasn't staring at you... w-well I was, but I was watching you fire the bow and-... um..."

Looking back at Rodimus, he found that the young Prime was not glaring at him anymore, but seemed rather surprised to hear this, and was trying to hide his flushing cheeks. "You... you thought I was good?" he queried, looking at Drift with embarrassed optics.

Drift nodded, finding himself enjoying the sight of Rodimus acting all cute like, and that was surprising, even for him. "Yes, I think you were. I know it takes great skill to use one of those so... I thought you were..." Drift began to trail off, trying to find the right word to use. Rodimus leaned in, his face full of curiosity, as did the teal armoured mech, and even Prowl, all of them wanting to know what Drift had to say. The white mech gulped, his pale face turning red as he finished his sentence with a small tone, "...w-wonderful?"

It was the only sensible word that came to mind, but thankfully it made the young Prime happy. Very happy, in fact. Rodimus made a strange sound, and his face was suddenly filled with a silly grin. Drift guessed that the young Prime enjoyed getting praise, though he surely got that all the time. The teal armoured mech just uttered a short laugh, and then patted Rodimus hard on the back. "Look, jus' 'cause he says ya wonderful, don't mean you are," he chuckled. "You still have a long way ta go lad."

Rodimus pouted, "He's a member of the Circle, so his word is better than yours!"

"I'm a student!" corrected Drift, not wanting to get dragged into anything, that would tarnish his training.

The young Prime ignored him, and continued to boast. "You see Sir Kup, if a member of the Circle-" "STUDENT!" shouted Drift, "-thinks I was wonderful with an arcane bow, then clearly I have mastered my training. That means you can go back to your Wrecker knights, and leave me to do whatever I wish."

The teal armoured mech, known as Sir Kup, merely chewed at his cygar, giving the young Prime an unimpressed look. Prowl sighed, knowing that once the young Prime started, there was no stopping him, and Drift finally figured out why no one praised Rodimus so often. Sir Kup puffed out some smoke, and uttered a deep 'hmmm' sound in his throat. He folded his arms as he addressed Rodimus, "Is that so? Well then, can you fire three?"

Rodimus laughed, looking up at Sir Kup with confidence shining in his optics. "Of course I can fire three, I just did right now, didn't-..." "In one shot?" asked the teal armoured mech, cutting in, before the young Prime could finish.

That made Rodimus silence himself, and he looked at Sir Kup, the confidence shattering in his optics, which he could not hide. He tried to say something, but he couldn't get anything past his confused lips. Sir Kup could not help but chortle, and patted Rodimus on the helm, as if he was expecting that reaction right from the start. The young Prime fumed at the touch and folded his arms with a huff, looking away with an angry glare. Drift didn't know a lot about arcane bows, but he did know that firing more than one, was incredibly hard to master.

The teal mech looked to Drift, and studied him with his ancient optics. "So this is the lad they sent to keep an optic on this one?" he queried, walking over to get a good look at him.

Prowl answered him with a nod, nudging Drift forward. "Yes, a student under training to join the Circle. I have been advised that, he is somewhat like young Rodimus Prime here," he replied. That made the white mech growl quietly, but he said nothing, there was no point. Prowl just glared back. "You should show some respect to Sir Kup here, child. He is war hero from the Quintesson wars, the Kaonol rebellions, and slayed many dangerous beasts, that threatened our land."

Sir Kup reacted with a roll of his optics, sighing as if this praise bored him. "Please Captain, I'm sick of that crap," he said with a laugh, "I'm just Sir Kup of the Wrecker Knights, an' the little Prime's instructor," standing before the pair with a modest expression.

"I'm not little," snapped Rodimus, still pouting.

The teal mech looked back at him, and laughed again, amused with how Rodimus was acting. "Still whinin' are ya? I thought ya were a "master of the arcane bow" an' were above all that."

This was the final straw for the young Prime. Rodimus suddenly roared in an immature way, marched over to the three mechs, grabbed Drift's hand, and stormed off with him in tow. Drift stumbled along and, even if he wanted to, did not dare try to free his hand. The young Prime was angry, and it would be best not to stoke the wild fire, that was burning within him. Last thing he wanted was for Rodimus to yell at him. Before Prowl could even protest, Sir Kup just laughed again, as if he took pleasure in watching the young Prime getting knocked off his high perch.

"Remember ta rest up lad," he shouted, "last thing we want is for ya to fall over, an' pass out on us."

Rodimus ignored him, merely snorting at his request, and continued to lead Drift far away from them, somewhere within the exclusive training grounds, where no one could disturb them. Drift said nothing, for he could sense that Rodimus was in a foul, if not miserable mood. Rodimus said nothing either, focused on leading the white mech away from his instructor and the Captain of the Autobot knights. Until he was certain they were far from the prying audios of the two older mechs, Rodimus released the white mech, who massaged his wrist.

Inside, what looked like a sparring ground, Drift watched as Rodimus pace back and forth slowly, a distant look in his optics. "You best ignore whatever that old timer says," he suddenly stated, "He never praises me, no matter how hard I work. He just makes a fool out of me, in front of everyone."

Drift listened as Rodimus continued to complain, pointing out every possible flaw the teal mech had. It took a moment for Drift to realize what was wrong with the young Prime, and why he was acting like this. The white mech had seen it all before, back home in his dojo. There were times when other students, and himself, would get frustrated with how their training was coming along, taking it out on others, and never considering that the fault must lie with themselves. They would even blame their sensei's, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that they were the ones who were at fault. Drift could see, from the moment he first saw him, that Sir Kup was indeed someone he would like to call sensei one day, and he knew that Rodimus was trying his best, from how he fired that arcane bow earlier on. Rodimus just needed some positive feedback, but no praise, otherwise it would go straight to his head.

Rodimus paused in mid rant, peering over at Drift after noticing his silence. "Don't you think he'a arrogant?" he asked, "Don't you think he's full of it?"

"I only met the person, Rodimus," replied Drift, with a sigh. "I think he's just making certain, that you don't get carried away with your training."

"Well... he's a real... oooh, I just hate him so much!" whined the young Prime, kicking a small pebble in frustration.

Drift shook his head in a disapproving manner, knowing that Rodimus didn't mean what he said, but didn't understand how training worked. "It's his job to make certain you reach the best of your abilities, he can't praise you every time you do something right for once. He has to push you, until he truly believes you have mastered your abilities." Rodimus looked at him with confused optics, but was listening to what was being said. Drift continued, wanting to make certain Rodimus understood. "They may act harsh, and maybe even mock you, but they do that because they need to push you. You can't force him to treat you with respect, you have to earn his respect. He's a veteran Rodimus, that means he knows what he's doing, so you have to trust him."

For a moment Rodimus said nothing, but took in what Drift had said, trying to understand it. Drift allowed him to, remaining silent, and hoping that he had made sense to the young Prime. He didn't truly know what Kup was like, but from his experience he knew that all instructors had to be harsh with their students, in order to bring out the best in them. There is no benefit in constant praise, for it all goes to your head, and you'll get overconfident. To know that you earned your instructors respect meant that you knew you were ready to face the world.

Rodimus mumbled something before saying, "I guess... he has to act like that... I just wish he wouldn't mock my height all the time."

"You're not that short," reassured Drift, who was about the same height as Rodimus, "Plus you still have many more stellar cycles to grow."

That was answered with a short laugh, "Are you trying to praise me now?"

"No, I'm just telling you the truth," replied Drift.

"Ha, Optimus once told me that, the truth can hurt," said Rodimus with a chuckle, "But I guess you have a talent for making it sound soothing."

Rodimus suddenly smiled in a strange yet sweet way, and it made Drift feel warm within his spark. He never made anyone smile before by simple telling them the truth, and he admitted that he felt pleased with himself for making Rodimus smile. To see the young Prime just form a small smile made him feel... happy, like he had never been before. He still had a hard time believing that the young Prime had a problem smiling before he arrived, he had such a warm and bright aura, that it was impossible to snuff out. It made Drift wonder, what was Rodimus like before he showed up? He remembered, as he crept up behind him back in the Solus Prime courtyard, that he resonated depressing feelings, such as hate, grief, and a hint of fear. It made him wonder, what was making him so miserable in the first place?

He was a Prime, living in a palace fit for Primus himself, and yet Rodimus seemed to dislike certain elements about it. Was it because he was spoilt? No that couldn't be it, even though Rodimus acted like he was better than everyone else, he still had a decent and honest aura about him. Drift believed he would make a good Prime one day, when he was older. So what else could it be? Maybe it was Sir Kup? Maybe Rodimus wasn't used to such harsh treatment, and reacted badly about it? Or maybe it was because his older brother, Optimus Prime, was hardly about, and he grew lonely? Or was there something else? Something that he had yet to see?But how could any of these upset a Prime, even one so young? Primes were the descendants of Primus and the old knights of Cyberytronia, they were pretty much gods, who walked with mortal mechs. They were holy and pure, so how could these feelings affect them in such a way?

His thoughts were interrupted when Rodimus gave him a small push. "Want to ditch Prowl, and get a real tour?" he asked, an excited note in his voice.

For a moment he considered whether to go with him or not, but then he suddenly decided, that if he was going to spend the next two stellar cycles with this young Prime, he might as well get to understand him better.

"Alright, but please don't drag me into places I'm not supposed to visit," requested Drift, acting cool about it.

Rodimus merely nudged him on the shoulder with a laugh. "Where is you sense of adventure?" he asked, leading the white mech out of the dueling grounds.

"If I seek adventure, I do so when I am certain I'm not about to endanger myself," sighed Drift, following Rodimus.

"Where is the fun in that?"

As the two young mechs exited the training grounds, Ultra Magnus emerged from the shadows, sighing in annoyance. The pair had failed to notice that the second in command of the Autobot knights, had been standing there the whole time, lurking in the shadows, and listening to their every word. He wasn't spying on them, no, he was not like that. He just happened to be there, and decided to observe, making certain that having Drift there wasn't a mistake. He had many concerns about the young mech from Crystal City, but was please to know that, at least he did not wish to cause trouble. Still, it would best to keep on optic on the pair, for knowing young Rodimus, he would drag him into the pit, and out again with some hellish beast.

"It's not like you to spy, Ultra Magnus," came a voice.

Looking up, Ultra Magnus found the healer, Ratchet, standing not too far from where he was hiding. "And it's not like you to spy on me, healer," hissed the strict mech.

Ratchet sighed, stepping forward, not showing any sign of fear before the one, who clearly did not want him nearby. In fact he looked annoyed, and insulted at the same time.

"Please Ultra Magnus, you can call me by my first name. Though I find it strange, with how you, of all mechs, are acting towards me. Have we reversed our roles or something?" he queried, stepping forward some more, "Shouldn't I be the one who greets you with hate? Shouldn't you be the one with the shadow of guilt trailing behind you?"

Ultra Magnus gritted his teeth, but could see that Ratchet was taking no pleasure in sharing these details. "Let's face it, old friend, at the end of the sol, we both carry the same pain and the guilt, which we will carry on our backs, till our sparks turn dark. So, for the sake of those we hold dear, why don't you start by dropping the whole 'hatred' you have for me, and let's just play friends? Alright?"

The whole area around them suddenly turned tense, and an uneasy aura filled the air. The healer stood waiting for a response, any response, for he did not truly care what would happen next. Ultra Magnus took a deep vent, calming himself, not wanting to cause a scene, not when the young Prime and his friend were still nearby. Instead he turned his back to him, growling as he did so.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, trying to keep it civil.

"You know very well, that when Rodimus Prime is in training, I have to be nearby in case he has another accident," explained Ratchet, not wishing to tempt the strict mech any further, "But I am surprised to see you here, it's not like you to be spying on our your Prime."

"I was not spying, I was merely observing to see if this Crystal City mech is indeed a good choice," explained Ultra Magnus.

"Ah yes, I noticed him this morning. Not bad looking, certainly looks like he knows better than anyone else, and if he falls for Rodimus' game, then we're all in trouble," sighed Ratchet, recalling the young mech after chasing trouble makers out of his chambers. "I will admit it is refreshing to see the young Prime in a more pleasant mood lately."

Ultra Magnus shook his head with a sigh. "I just hope Optimus made the right choice," he muttered.

Ratchet glared at the strict mech, not happy with his choice of words, "The last time you made a choice for him, you-... oh forget it." The healer grumbled, turning his back on Ultra Magnus and walking away. Before he left the strict mech alone, he looked at him one last time, his face full of bitter, pent up, rage. "Just stay out of this one Ultra Magnus, otherwise you'll screw it all up, for both him and Rodimus."

"And you'll just stand by and watch... again?" replied the strict mech.

That made the healer bite his glossa, his optics twitch, and his frame tremble with hidden rage. He looked like he was about to charge and kill someone with the way he was staring at him. Not wishing to discuss it any further Ratchet left Ultra Magnus alone, to ponder his thoughts, and to think of his past. Ultra Magnus sighed, looking out to where Rodimus and Drift had exited.

"Let's just hope that this isn't a repeat of history."

**End  
To be continued in "A Blooming Friendship"**


End file.
